#pulling this one out from the draft dungeon !!

[oldschool-analog]

Dear Evan Hansen: Jared we’ve gotta write more emails before the Murphys start questioning me!!!!!

Be More Chill: Okay Jeremy now hit the second tower

[madbrake]

Finished Ratatoskr!

Ratatoskr was one of the tricker members of the first brood to draw since there are only three images of her officially associated with ffxiv and two of those are very stylized. I added design notes and thoughts below the cut for anyone curious. They're nothing too crazy since a lot of her design is very similar to other members of the first brood, but I did think about her a lot while working on this piece and wanted to share where I pulled a few elements.

As a base, I gave Ratatoskr the spikier build of Nidhogg and Tiamat based on those images but with some modifications to to match her image in the first brood concept art:

As a result, she has fewer horns and spikes than Tiamat or Nidhogg. The spines along her back are thinner than her siblings’ also to match the concept art and to make her feel a little closer to Midgardsormr.

I also wanted to keep the thick frill(?) of reverse scale plating around her neck from her concept art because it reminded me of Vishap’s more literal neck frill. I liked the idea that some descendants of the first brood might have incorporated elements of her form into their own evolutions. It didn't end up appearing as prominent in my drawing because I had a little trouble wrestling with proportions and the neck bend, but it's there! In pervious drafts I gave her frill identical to Vishap's but I had a little trouble getting it to feel like it fit her design so I stuck with thick scales instead.

Her head shape was based directly on the two stylized images of her from the game. I really enjoyed the strong shape of these. It felt almost shark-like to me:

I don’t usually include other characters or props to my first brood drawings, but I wanted to add the moogles after thinking about Ratatoskr’s history, her dungeon, and her Encyclopedia Eorzea entry which describes her as a bearer of dragon songs and one of the friendlier dragons. I like the think the moogles loved to complement her songs with their own instruments. Working on this piece as a whole made me really appreciate Ratatoskr and legacy all the more and I'm eternally sad that we'll (likely) never get to meet her in game. I think she would have been a wonderful friend. Her design is a little non-standard for a child of Midgardsormer in small ways, but I feel like she was probably a little non-standard as a traveler, songstress, and friend to man.

Lastly I want to give a little shoutout to the site Tales from Dragonstar which was put together by @/ahzuvi-txt and which made my reference hunt a ton easier. It has a lot of wonderful information about the dragons of Eorzea. It's also got an interesting guide to dragon language that I want to dig into soon. I definitely recommend checking it out!

Thanks for reading! Bahamut will be my next and final first brood piece to cap this series off. :)

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 26 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

Content Warnings: This chapter is Red, Igris, & < Devourer > butterflies-centric—sorry, little to no JinwooxReader in this one; this chapter also contains some elements of gore—this is a work of fiction and I do not condone or glorify violence in real life; my attempts at magical anatomy—'cause college is still kicking my ass when it's the holidays, so I must apologize if this chapter might be boring; & experimental writings—a.k.a. me trying out a different style of being more descriptive and new p.o.v.s shifts.

See more in the < End Note > in case the descriptions in this chapter do not deliver as well as I had hoped + extra funsies.

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

——oOo——

{ < Children of ‘Trial Player’ >

File 001# - Quick Status Window

< Red >

Lv. MAX

"The Ducchess"

Would you like to initiate < Title Change >?

<<Yes>>   <No>

Initiating < Title Change > . . .

< Red >

Lv. MAX

“The Devourer”

< Title Change > successful!

Specialty Passive Skill: < Crimson Carnage > is activated!

*In the duration of < The Feast >, user will gain 3× the energy and experience points from consuming lifeforce. Both can still be distributed to fellow < Children of ‘Trial Player’ >.

Stats: < HP >, < Stamina >, and < Mania > are now boosted.

Special Note: “Sustain the flesh, blind the soul.”_ }

——oOo——

At the center of the morbid tableau, Igris saw her.

A study in grace—a slender silhouette clad in velvety white and traces of black, the intricate patterns of her wings shimmered like molten rubies on flowing sleeves and coat tails. Every little movement was deliberate yet seamlessly flowed amidst havoc, out of place yet undeniably captivating.

Amid the blood-soaked carnage, she seemed untouched by the grime and chaos. Unhurried steps so light, the heels of her boots left no imprint on the sodden earth. She weaved through devoured carcasses left and right with the same grace as she would have when flying in her butterfly form.

A rapier on one hand, her crimson eyes, languid yet sharp, fixed on the dungeon boss his Liege had felled—once a towering centaur-like beast, its body now laid on the ground with its neck slashed open. Red approached its head, its purple blood pooled under, yet there was not a single splash when she stepped on it, only calm ripples.

The thin silver blade emitted wisps akin to flames as she got close enough. At the same level of its eye, it was clear that the beast’s vacant optic that stared into the void was larger than her head.

Shing!

Igris caught the quick circular slash of metal, and at first, there seemed to be nothing amiss. At least until—

Gush!

Viscous liquid burst out like a jet stream, becoming a heavy downpour as it fell. In a split second, Red’s figure was swallowed by the waterfall, the blood pooling underneath widening in size.

It was not until a few seconds later that the curtain of purple lifted enough for everyone to finally get a glimpse, the outline of the figure in it. As the stream progressively lessened in its intensity and amount, Red didn’t move a single step from her position, and it was revealed later that she remained as pristine as ever, not even her pants were soiled by the icky violet. She stood there under an umbrella where her rapier had been, the white material unstained as the droplets of blood dripped down from the lace decorated with red gems.

When the outburst of blood around the beast’s eye finally ran out, the remaining little amount of liquid cascading down the orb, the unseeing eye shifted. Red took a step to the side as the beast’s eyeball rolled out of its socket onto the purple ground, following it were the blood vessels, nerve optic, and tendons with their detached ends cut short.

When the eyeball stopped rolling, there was a swarm of butterflies at the ready, and soon, the globe was surrounded and began to be gnawed on by the voracious insects.

Red remained unbothered. She went to close her umbrella, and then pulled at its handle, revealing that it was a scabbard as the thin blade came to view once again. The umbrella disappeared in red wisps as Red jumped onto the beast's massive head and began to chop away. First at his antlers, the bony branches fell to each side with its cut-edges blackened, and began to glitch away until the whole antlers vanished into air, presumably stored into your inventory.

Igris also caught her next slash: a horizontal one, and then a vertical that was instantly followed by a backflip—Red landing on the beast’s upper body behind the detached head.

Something similar to before happened, it took a few seconds after the initial swing of her blade for the blood to burst, first from the horizontal cut that detached the snout and the next was from the rest of the head splitting into two halves right in the middle. Igris recognized this delayed reaction, it was the body that didn’t realize it was cut the moment it was when the cut was done far too quickly for it to respond in time.

Igris knew this because he was also capable of doing such. However…

The rapier was not a blade meant to slash like other swords typically. It was meant for prioritizing speed and precision, capitalizing on its user’s dexterity and finesse. And Red had proven she had all of these qualities when she had done exactly thrusting attacks when they fought together moments prior.

A rapier was a sword meant to pierce.

So how in his Liege’s name did she was able to cut through flesh and bones so easily with that same slender and pointed blade?

The only possible explanation Igris could think of was the use of magic, the red wisps as the proof. It was not unlikely for swordsmen and swordswomen capable of magic to use them to enhance their attacks, be it the body or the weapon itself. Perhaps she used magic to give the blade sharper edges and fortified it to not break under heavier pressure? Then she also needed more strength to accomplish that clean cut.

But was that all there was to it when her stances were just as odd?

As though caught in an endless waltz, even in combat, Red’s steps were odd. It wasn’t practical; it was theatrical, the combination of sheer extravagance and fluidity of it all.

It wasn’t the typical disciplined efficiency of a warrior’s training. No, her movements carried the flair of high society, the sway of aristocrats at frivolous galas.

{”I am aware that you do not fancy such occasions,”}

It reminded Igris of the rare instances when he had been forced to attend those annoying noble gatherings in life—when he could’ve been fighting on the battlefield instead—standing stiff and indifferent at the edge of opulent ballrooms, enduring the swish of gowns and the hum of violins for the sake of duty.

{An upturned of plump lips glistened, as though painted by blood, something he was more familiar with—}

Or perhaps it was more akin to the high-end performances he had glimpsed while on patrol, the kind that packed theaters and sparked envy among the masses unable to afford. The kind where tickets were scarce and disputes over seating made so much ruckus and his duties more complicated—stagnating his training, the progress to his goal—in the past.

{”However…” An extended hand delicately hidden under satin glove.}

Those fleeting moments were far from meaningful to him, but they had left enough of an impression for him to recognize the same artistry now.

Her moves weren’t a metaphorical dance of the blade, the way swordsmen sometimes fought with an almost artistic rhythm.

No, Red was dancing—truly dancing.

{—she was more familiar to him than anything else in this godforsaken room.}

Every pivot was a pirouette, every sweep steeped in poise, every sway she put her heart into it. A face so serenely doing her calling, not caring who was watching or what the world might think of the unconventionality. She moved as though the battlefield was her stage and she its prima ballerina.

And, to Igris’s astonishment, it worked—brilliantly, might he add.

{”Can you humor this lady just once,”}

A match, a complimentary to his own.

He had never seen anything like it before.

{”Sir Knight?”}

“How fascinating.”

Even before Red had taken her current form, Igris had always been intrigued by the red butterfly that had inexplicably taken a liking to him—or so you had claimed.

To him, she had always carried an air of refinement that set her apart. Every flutter of her iridescent wings was not without purpose, Red had always been peculiarly polite and oddly dignified for a summon. When the shadows discovered they could communicate with the butterflies—a feat made possible, apparently, through a telepathic mechanism Igris only vaguely understood as a mix of their mimicry of shadows and some illusions—Red’s demeanor stood out for her articulate and courteous responses.

Now, that same poise radiated from her in full force.

As Red continued to cut away the dungeon boss’s body into smaller pieces so the other butterflies would have an easier time to eat, an acrid smell wafted. Igris caught the sight of blackened spots and edges on some chopped fleshes. Only when a bone fell with its cut-side directly visible to him did Igris have his answer.

Fire.

The surface of the cut on the bone was completely blackened—no, charred.

Not every chopped part was; the fleshes mostly remained fresh which Red might have enough strength to cut through. But when it came to a harder material like the bone, the cut was always completely burned. And the fleshes that did have that discoloration must’ve been the skeletal muscles, the closest one to the bones—that meant Red had control over when and how much heat was needed.

Red landed back on a puddle in the ground with grace—again, no splash, just ripples—her rapier disintegrating into the same red wisps as her magic, the motion was like a ballerina’s reverence. As the dungeon’s boss body fell in neat cubicle pieces behind her, the red butterflies closing in to eat like a curtain-call.

A step accompanied by a ripple.

Another followed.

Red walked towards a minion’s corpse, significantly smaller than the boss’, but was still noticeably larger than her own. While the body below the neck was already getting chewed on, the head was left untouched. With deliberate care, Red knelt beside it, her tailcoat pooling around her like spreading wings.

Right hand took off the left’s glove, the remaining other pulled by teeth until the delicate and pale fingers underneath was revealed. As both pieces of dark leather vanished into thin air, black nails trailed along the beast’s jawline in an almost gentle gesture, as though caressing a long-lost lover.

She began to hum, a calming melody that sent chills through Igris. It wasn’t a tune he recognized, but there was something uncomfortably intimate about it, as if she were singing a lullaby for a child.

A small ornate dagger materialized, fingers curling around its handle in firm. The ornate blade gleaming in the muted light as she raised it high—

Stab!

Igris flinched—a reaction he hadn’t experienced in years—as the silver tip plunged into the beast’s unseeing eye.

Similar to the new… feeding routine of the butterflies, he had no problem with the act of stabbing itself—it was the way the scene unfolded, like an oil painting came to life. The illustrated content long debated between the brutality it actually depicted behind strokes of beautiful paints, pure white among vivid reds and deep shadows.

Red pulled the dagger free with practiced ease, and with it came the beast’s eyeball.

The strings of optic nerve and blood vessels stretched from the force; the other end clung stubbornly to the socket. With a flick of her wrist, they broke in the middle, the orb held aloft like a precious gem while the bundle of fibers dangled from it, swaying like a clock’s pendulum.

The dagger, now acting as a makeshift fork, brought the eyeball to her lips. Her sharp canines peeked through as she bit into the orb. A brief sight—a single rivulet of viscous fluid trickling down the corner of her lips to her chin—was almost immediately hidden behind a palm, as if the act of showing the sight itself was most impolite. An accidental stroke in the otherwise masterful portrait.

Despite the slight hiccup, Red maintained her composure. The dagger in her right replaced by a materialized handkerchief that she dabbed over her lips daintily, catching any stray pieces as she quietly chewed. Her carmine gaze closed to savor, as though she were merely fine dining at a dinner gala, the orchestra of carnage its backdrop.

“Hm...” She swallowed delicately, her voice a dulcet whisper that carried through the stage. “A bit too earthy for my taste.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a serene smile, and the usual sight of her upturned lips would’ve been captivating—it was still—but now, Igris didn’t think just one word would do the scene in front of him their due.

“Well?” Red turned her head slightly, vermillion orbs opening with a glint.

“What do you think, children?”

——oOo——

The red kaleidoscope seemed to simultaneously pause mid-feast, a brief change in their pattern, a different flutter. Distant bells in the wind, like twinkling stars given voice.

Chime. Chime. Chime. Gurgle. Chime—

‘Gurgle’?

A tremor ran through the swarm. Their luminous bodies wavered, light bending strangely around some, as if space itself recoiled. The chimes grew discordant, warping into something wet and bubbling, like air escaping through viscera.

Squish…

A single butterfly convulsed midair. Tiny form curling in on itself, shrinking—no, collapsing. Wings folded inward with a schlk, dissolving into a raw essence of erratically pulsing mass of light. And from that quivering cocoon, something grew.

SQUELCH!

A spine unraveled; a spider’s threads pulled taut from unseen tether. Bones spiraled into existence, each piece of vertebrae locking into place with a sharp click. From there, the thin golden tendrils further expanded the structure like a time-lapsed birth—simultaneous yet seamless.

Upward, forming the trachea, jawbone snapping into place with a muted crck. The smooth curve of a skull, hollow sockets yawning open, vacant.

Downward, the pelvis solidified, grinding against before anchoring the extending femurs and other bones that would shape the legs, feet, and toes. Similarly for the upper extremities, from the shoulder bones, lengthening arms, hands, and down to the phalanges that made up each finger.

Inward, ribs sprouted from the spine’s embrace with a slow, deliberate snap-snap-snap, spreading like curved thorns, forming a cage locked by the sternum. And nestled within that hollow prison, a small thing took shape, suspended in the air just like the rest, a crystalline jewel held between unseen fingers.

Motionless—silent.

{How far can an imitation of life go?}

Like roots seeking soil, nerves branched out, mapping, in search of something to anchor to. Alongside them, veins crawled along the ivory framework, seeking to create the intricate web to feed, growing from that very same confined still-mass at the center.

Like ink spreading through water, a deep crimson bloomed then—

Ba-dump.

A pulse rippled through the arteries as blood surged outward, painting the spectral shifting-mass with life as raw organs came into being. Lungs, pinkish and fragile, swelled as if on the verge of their first breath, filling the rest of the ribcage. A brain placed snug within the skull where the eyeballs popped in their sockets. The liver slid into place with a damp plorp, intestines coiled like serpents, slick in the dim settings.

The stomach, kidneys, and so forth, each instrument settled into their place perfectly between the smooth walls of bone while sinew knitted around them like a loom at work over shifting joints. Nerves and veins threaded through all as muscles stretched over them in a weave where limbs twitched to life. True skin followed suit from behind, covering the exposed curves of the body and face with the same abnormal growth, each feature smoothed into an eerie, flawless symmetry.

For a time, what were under were still just as see-through even with the steady appearance of the outermost layer. At least, until the translucent skin neared its completion of sealing over the body. What should be the healthy complexion creeping in as the flesh and dermis closed over the last exposed area—a last glimpse over the beating heart.

{If you lie long enough—}

As naked as a newborn, a maiden’s bare feet kissed the slick, viscous blood pooling beneath. The deep purple clung, stark against the rain-watered surface, too pristine, like a being sculpted rather than born. Her wings, now immense as they adjusted to the owner’s new form, stretched one final time before shuddering. As if exhaling their last breath, the glittering membrane melted into the smooth planes of her back, disappearing as if they had never been there.

As if the one left standing was undoubtedly just a mere human.

And more followed.

A notable number of butterflies went through the same collapse. Delicate bodies unraveling, twisting, blooming like life in fast motion. Their arrival was heralded by the symphony of growth—cartilage cracking, skin sealing with quiet, wet whispers, the sickeningly organic sounds of something becoming, of creating features to each of their own.

Save for the rain, the silence of a field of mannequin settled after.

Until one threw her head back, auburn locks following her every movement, a new set of green eyes catching light under the drizzle.

The undeniably rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, making motions with her rosy lips—the sound light and airy, almost melodic.

{—won’t it become the truth?}

Following the lead, a second one, black of hair, brown of skin, and hazel for eyes, also started tittering. Joined by a third, white-haired and red-eyed, clapping gleefully. A fourth followed, and then a fifth, sixth, and the rest—small delighted laughs that grew louder and louder—a crescendo.

The first to move wobbled slightly on her feet, crouching beside the nearest carcass, fingertips tracing its ruined hide with something akin to fascination. Then, with a motion of deceptive ease, the beast’s skin peeled away with a wet rip.

She stumbled back, losing her balance and landing onto her haunches with a childlike-“Oof!”, even as the spray of warm, sticky blood came into contact with her side. She clutched the torn chunk in her bloodied cradle—like a prize, fresh crescent marks forming under digging nails—uncaring of the fleshy part still dripping onto her lap.

She lifted it to her mouth, a peek of growing canines between parted lips before teeth sunk into meat and tore them away under. Icky purple painted her chin, ran down the pale column of her throat as she chewed, staining the pristine surface that magic had so carefully perfected.

The very first taste on her tongue, of iron thick and rich.

When she eagerly swallowed, the others followed.

The butterflies—those still in their original form—perched alongside their newly reborn kin. Together, the feast began anew, of chimes and tearing flesh, of lips smacking against dripping muscles, of mirthful hums between gulps. Until each was bathed in the mix of blood and rain, violet dripping from fluttering wings and tresses from head to toe.

And at the center of it all, Red’s smile lingered, sealing her sight once more—content.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [25/02/2025]

I'm back y'all! 🥳

For a short while at least. 🥹

I might've gone overboard writing the descriptions for this one. 😅 I'm not so sure on how well I am at describing action sequences, I still want to add them, so I'm learning as I go! 🫡 And so sorry if the magical anatomical sequence felt like a lesson, it's definitely NOT a real-life lesson okay? Please note the ✨️fantasy✨️-elements!

I'm already out of ideas on what more to edit to make this chapter better, so let me know your thoughts on this! 🥰

And just for clarification, what I want to depict for Red's fighting style is not true swordmanship. Igris stated that her moves are more theatrical, not efficient. The butterflies are not meant to surpass the shadows in direct combat, with few exceptions. They can hold their ground long enough if push comes to shove. 🦋💀

As for Red's dance-based fighting style, I would like to add that it will not be copy-paste Cha Hae-in's. I would like to think Hae-in's is like "she fights like she dances", while what I want for Red's is more like "she uses dances to fight". This will correlate to Red's other title by the system that will be revealed in the future, but what I can say now is that Red won't have or in any way take Hae-in's title. Our lovely Hae-in will still be the only one nicknamed "The Dancer" as she deserves, and I will NOT take that away from her 😤❤️

I also took my chance on writing Igris' backstory from what we know of him right now, mainly from the brief info I got from reading the Solo Leveling: Arise wiki, so plus some creative liberties to match the story. I DO NOT play the game—interested, but don't exactly have the time to try it out—so feel free to send corrections if I got any info wrong. 🙏

Anyone interested in theorizing what's up with Red and Igris? 🤭

Also, I mentioned 3 new humanoid butterflies here with more physical decriptions than the rest, but still less than the leaders of kaleidoscopes (the main 8 butterflies, i.e. Red, 'Bel', Trick, Neonie, Blanche, Sol, Gale, & Aria).

The 3 mentioned here—

Auburn-haired, green eyes, with olive skin;

Ravenette, hazel eyes, with brown skin;

White hair, red eyes, albino

—are meant to be background characters kinda easter egg. So, for funsies, can any of you figure out which 3 shadows soldiers these butterflies are supposed to be counterparts of?

Hint: They are only mentioned in the Solo Leveling anime's media, as far as I know. 🤔

And last but not least, in celebration of this chapter being Red-centric, a dear friend of mine and fellow beloved Reader of Trial Player AU, @eternadreeblissa, who somehow predicted this chapter being Red-centric (just kidding, but it's still very good timing since I don't remember ever spoiling her on this chapter until AFTER she sent her gift), sent me this absolutely fucking gorgeous panel of Red from Chapter 20 😍

I'm dying from happiness ASDFGHJKL

Boo, I love you so much. ❤️❤️❤️

Please check it out y'all! And better yet, check out her blog, her arts are so 🩷❤️🖤

Feedbacks are very much appreciated. Thank you for reading. 🙏💕

[reysdriver]

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected. 

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl. 

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking. 

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you. 

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him. 

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign. 

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke. 

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better. 

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again. 

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you. 

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied. 

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip. 

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love. 

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen. 

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms. 

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky. 

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room. 

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you. 

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged. 

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed. 

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse. 

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun. 

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police. 

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively. 

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled. 

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it. 

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything. 

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father. 

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said. 

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all. 

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours. 

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

[lovelyhan]

— every summertime  ⟢

you're not really interested in the record shop downtown. but people aren't oblivious to the way you keep trying to get into the owner's pants—not even the owner himself.

★ FEATURING; jeonghan x afab!reader

★ WORD COUNT;  16.1k words

★ TAGS; 70s au, playing hard to get, bad bad bad decisions, friends questioning said decisions, reader is a slut in theory but not so much in practice (at least...in the beginning), pining?, angst but like, only a microcosm of angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ WARNINGS; alcohol consumption

★ NOTES; if i told you all about how much this fic has changed over the last three months i've spent writing it, you'd all be sick of me going back and forth with the direction i wanted this to go lmfao !!!! i don't think i've ever suffered writing anything as much as i did with this, so i'm proud to be sharing the fruit of every one of my trashed drafts to all of you :') i sincerely hope you all like it T T

this is part of the svthub 70s;teen collab!

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, jealousy, possessiveness, dom jeonghan bc i just Need him to dom me, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, dacryphilia kinda?, cockwarming

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz

★ JEONGHAN TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @scandal-in-bohemia - @bias-recs - @lunaryoongie - @haoxiaoba - @ak6ko

“Ji, I got you a present!”

Your best friend of over ten years glances at you momentarily while he’s in the middle of replacing the strings of his guitar. There’s an unimpressed look on his face when he does it—no different from the way he looks at you whenever you walk in a gritty session of Dungeons and Dragons back in high school. Only this time, you’re being downright annoying for another reason entirely.

“I’m pretty sure you already have all the Led Zeppelin vinyls in existence so I just picked out whatever from the shelf instead,” you tell him nonchalantly as you bring out a spiffy-looking record of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. “This one’s nice, isn’t it?”

It is, but here’s the thing:

“I already have that.” Jihoon affixes you with a blank stare as he gets up from his seat, letting his fingers glide across the alphabetized collection on his own shelf. 

Ten seconds later, your best friend pulls a carefully preserved vinyl with the exact same album art plastered on the front, making you lower the one in your hands in abject disbelief. But Jihoon has been friends with you long enough to know that something like this isn’t enough to fluster you.

“Consider it a high quality dupe then.” You giggle maniacally before letting yourself fall on top of Jihoon’s bed and hold the sealed vinyl tightly to your chest. “Jeonghan looked soooo gorgeous today. I was really down in the dumps when I heard that he cut his hair, but there’s just a different appeal when guys have it shorter. You get me, right?”

“I really don’t,” Jihoon deadpans as he plops himself back into his chair, coiling a roll of fresh nylon around the pegs of his guitar. “Don’t you ever get tired of spending your summers chasing after a guy that obviously doesn’t like you back?”

“Don’t you get tired of lecturing me when we both know I’m never gonna listen?” A simper escapes your lips before you engage the Stevie Wonder poster on Jihoon’s ceiling in a staring contest. “Besides, it’s not as if I like like him! I just want to fuck him—big difference.”

There it is—the classic why am I even best friends with you sigh that only makes Jihoon more endearing than he already is. “Let me rephrase then: why do you keep chasing after a guy who obviously doesn’t want to fuck you back?”

Stevie Wonder ends up winning when you shoot back up into a seating position, letting out an obnoxious laugh that you stifle with the same vinyl you supposedly got for Jihoon. “Au contraire! It might seem that way, but you just haven’t seen a person as deep in his own denial as Jeonghan is.”

“Second door to the left—bathroom’s there. I highly recommend that you take a long, hard look at yourself in the mirror.” Jihoon’s jaw ticks when he says the words but as long as he isn’t blatantly kicking you out of his room, you’re still within tolerable range. “Didn’t Mingyu set you up with one of his friends? I clearly remember you telling me about it before the semester ended.”

Ah, that’s right. 

Two weeks ago, Kim Mingyu—one of the many friends you’ve left in your hometown—called the telephone that you shared in an apartment with four other girls. When the housemate that answered told you about some guy with a lisp looking for you, you quickly ditched whatever notes you were pretending to read for a quick conversation.

Of course, once Mingyu dropped the call, you quickly turned the telephone dial to ring up your best friend with a pressing question: Mingyu wants to set me up with some guy named Jungkook. Do you know him? 

Jihoon, however, has never met anyone that goes by that name his entire life, which made you draw the conclusion that this Jungkook person must be Mingyu’s friend from another city. He tends to collect people like trading cards and you can’t fault him for it. Mingyu is pretty charming.

Charming enough that you agreed to go hang out with him and Jungkook once you’re back in your hometown.

“Well, he hasn’t contacted me about it again so my Jungkook appointment is on hold until then,” you point out with a huff. “Plus, I don’t see why I should stop trying my chances with Jeonghan just because I’ve got another boy reserved.”

“I don’t remember you being this much of a man-eater last summer.”

“Yet you still love me anyway.” 

Despite already having one in his possession, Jihoon accepts the blasted Pink Floyd vinyl and places the dupe right next to his first copy on the shelf of collectibles. The conversation drifts onto different topics ranging from your mutual struggles with work and the supposed girlfriend that Soonyoung may or may not be lying about. Then right after he finishes restringing his guitar, your best friend walks you home just like old times.

When you’re halfway to the front door of your house, however, Jihoon calls out your name—a sound barely audible in the evening breeze, but you turn around with a questioning look anyway. 

“Don’t be too pushy with Jeonghan, okay?” He instructs sternly. “I know you’re just fucking around, but really, you’re better off investing your time in better things. In better people. Not someone who only keeps you around as a source of entertainment.”

You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand for added flair. “Fucking around? I’m very serious about getting my insides rearranged by him!”

Your best friend makes a face. “Y/N.”

“Just kidding, Ji. You, of all people, should know that I know my limits!” you reassure him with a smile. “Why do you think Jeonghan still speaks to me warmly whenever I walk inside his shop? Whenever I run into him at the disco?”

“Because you’re his customer? And he’s after your money? And maybe he’s a pretty decent person outside his reputation as a sexual fiend?”

“Well that might be true, but that’s also because he’s interested in me too!”

“Good night, Miss Delusional.”

“Good night, Mister Enabler!”

This is pretty much a good summary of your relationship with your best friend. You willingly get yourself tangled up in something incredibly stupid, he tells you off like he’s your mother every time he finds out, and once things start crashing down, you run over to Jihoon in tears while he consoles you for something that’s a hundred percent your fault. It’s quite the understated miracle how he’s tolerated you for so long, but that’s precisely why you’re best friends in the first place.

But there’s this one thing that you can’t tell even Jihoon about. 

“Were you finally out on a date with Jeonghan?”

Your sister, Luna, asks when you make your way to the living room to say hi. She’s nose-deep in one of those Stephen King novels, but her eyes stray away from the pages to spare you a momentary glance. 

You snort. “As if he’s that easy.” 

Luna hums before her eyes wander back to her book. “Mmm. You’re right. If he was, he would’ve gone out with you like, I dunno, three years ago?” 

“You’re such a bitch.”

“And you’re such a coward,” she snorts. “You know, if you just told him hey I’ve been in love with you since we met at Joshua’s graduation party instead of asking if he wants to sleep with you, your odds of getting with him would skyrocket.” 

“Now where’s the fun in that?” you chuckle before stepping inside the living room to ruffle her hair—an act of affection that Luna receives with distaste. “Quit making unnecessary comments about my sex life and help me with dinner before Mom and Dad get home.”

“Your non-existent sex life?”

“Oh, screw you.”

After having dinner with your family, you quickly retreat to your bedroom to retire for the evening before Soonyoung can call your house phone to ask if you’re down for a night out. It’s practically tradition whenever you’re back in town, but your last conversation with Jihoon has been weighing heavily on your mind since you walked inside your house. 

Despite there being a one hundred percent chance that you’ll run into Jeonghan again if you go out with your friends, you’re strangely not in the mood to mingle like you always do. 

You’re better off investing your time in better things. In better people.

That might be true, but…

How can you possibly break free of a cycle you’ve always found yourself tangled up in every summertime? 

THREE SUMMERS AGO

A few nights before graduating from college, Hong Jisoo—better known as Joshua—decided to throw an unforgettable party at a disco club his stepfather owns and monopolizes an entire chain out of. You’re not sure how he managed to pull the strings and smuggle enough booze to make the entire graduating class drunk, but old money does wonders especially in a town as small as this.

You recall it vividly because that was the first time you met Jeonghan.

He was a new face in a crowd of people you practically grew up with. But even if he wasn’t, you still would’ve been able to pick him out of the sea of graduating seniors with ease because of how breathtaking he looks.

His hair was brown when you met him, the tips barely tickling the nape of his neck with bangs framing his soulful eyes. You caught him sipping on a glass of something you can’t really name and the moment your brain managed to process the existence of such a beautiful man in such a boring old town, your immediate reaction was to turn to Mingyu. 

“Who’s that? Violet jacket, white pants? I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

Mingyu hums before looking around—something made easier by his towering height. “Oh! That’s Jeonghan—Joshua’s brother.”

“Brother?” Jihoon pipes up right next to you, mirroring your surprise. “I thought Joshua was an only child.” 

Seungkwan hisses as he ushers the four of you into a miraculously vacant booth near the jukebox, looking around as if your conversation was under threat of being eavesdropped on. “Pipe it down! We don’t want to get kicked out of the party for talking smack about Joshua’s family.”

“We’re not talking smack, we’re just confused.” Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Is it so bad to wonder about the newcomer when the entire disco has been eyeing him up and down? Look, even Soonyoung stopped mid-dance just to talk to him.”

True to Jihoon’s observation, another one of your friends, Kwon Soonyoung deigned to step off the dancefloor to exchange a few words with this Jeonghan person. Their interaction lasts for merely a few seconds with Soonyoung obviously taking a liking to the newcomer—a hearty laugh piercing through the song playing on the jukebox as he nods before heading back to whence he came.

Jeonghan was grinning the entire time too—a lazy, laid-back yet attractive smile—and fuck… 

You might have a nasty case of love at first sight. 

“So are you going to explain why Joshua suddenly has a brother or are we going to be in suspense the entire night?” Mingyu whines in his seat. 

Seungkwan huffs. “Alright, alright! Apparently, Joshua’s stepdad has another son who used to live several cities away. No one knows why he moved into this old dump, but hey, more eye candy for everyone, I guess.”

“Is he single?” you blurt out.

Mingyu’s expression twists with smugness. “Why are you curious? You’re not trying to go after him, are you?”

“And if I am?” Brows raised, you fold your arms together as you stare the six-foot puppy down. “It’s like Seungkwan said—he’s eye candy! It won’t do anyone any harm to try and get to know him better, right?” 

“Are you sure that’s a wise decision to make when you’re going to be traveling a lot for work?” Jihoon ponders seriously. “What happened to being ready to leave everything behind and starting anew?”

“Hey, it still counts as starting anew when I’m trying to get with the new guy in town.”

That’s when it starts. 

Jeonghan is easy to talk to. That night, you learned that he moved into town because the big city was much too stifling for him to bear; that he gets along swimmingly with his stepbrother despite their parents’ sudden remarriage; that he isn’t really interested when you boldly asked if he wanted to go out sometime.

It’s no big deal. Not like you went into that conversation with high expectations. The fact that he even entertained you was already a miracle on its own. You can take your losses with your head held high—because it’s no big deal.

But then you saw him leaving the disco with some woman you don’t recognize. You’re not sure who she is and what her relation is to Jeonghan, but the smiles they exchanged as the man of the hour escorted her outside would be forever engraved in the back of your head. 

The rest of the evening was a blur. You thought you’d be able to wipe the image of Jeonghan going home with someone else off your mind with enough booze, but even when you wake up with a hangover the next morning, the ghost of his pretty smile still haunts you. 

You carry it with you even after graduation—all teary eyes and tight hugs exchanged with the friends you spent your entire life with. While Soonyoung is in the middle of telling you to memorize everyone’s house telephone numbers so you can keep in touch while you’re away, you spot Jeonghan in the crowd of visitors filling the university quad.. 

He’s with Joshua and their parents, happily congratulating the youngest for his most recent milestone. You're sure you were at least subtle enough with how you observe him from the corner of your eye, but he catches you staring anyway. 

Instead of breaking eye contact immediately, however, Jeonghan holds your gaze and cracks another one of those lazy grins before waving. You have to look around to see if he was gesturing towards anyone else, but to your surprise, it seems that you’re the intended recipient.

Naturally, you don’t let it get to your head. You’re leaving town in three days and maybe it isn’t such a good idea to keep hankering for someone who made it clear that he isn’t into you. 

But then Jihoon thought it would be a great idea to drop by this newly opened record store in Main Street. So I can give you a little souvenir when you’re thousands of miles away, he said and you were so touched with the sentiment, you actually went along with it.

The excitement you’d racked up at the idea of receiving a gift from your best friend, however, was easily eclipsed by the person that greets the two of you once you enter the front door of the shop. 

“Good morning,” greets a chipper-looking Jeonghan wearing denim overalls with the name of the shop embroidered on the front pocket. “How can I help you two?”

Jihoon quickly recovers from the initial surprise and utters, “Oh, um, I wanted to buy a few cassette tapes for my friend. Can you direct us to the right aisle?”

Jeonghan nods before leaning across the wooden counter to direct you two to a row of shelves on the far right. “Just go down that one and you should be able to find what you’re looking for. They’re all arranged by the artist’s names.”

“Cool. Got it.”

Before you can even get a word in, your best friend proceeds to drag you off to the stack of cassette tapes—ducking behind the shelves to make sure Jeonghan doesn’t see what goes on.

“What’s he doing here?” he hisses quietly.

“Do I look like I have a clue? You’re the one who planned this,” you point out with your arms folded. “Just when I thought you were against me making a move on Jeonghan, you proceed to bring me to the place where he works anyway.”

“I still am! I just didn’t know he’d be here too…”

“Well, don’t get your panties in a twist and just let me pick out my gift so we can leave. How’s that?”

Though he’s visibly disgruntled with the knowledge you’ve both been presented with, Jihoon grunts in agreement before you flutter off to the neatly organized shelf. It reminds you of the one back in your best friend’s room. He’s been big on collecting vinyls and cassette tapes for as long as you can remember, so it’s natural for Jihoon to be drawn to this newly opened record shop. 

When you end up taking far too long to make up your mind about what you want, Jihoon eventually migrates to the other spots in the store—checking out the other merchandise being put up for sale with a quiet look of amazement shining in his eyes. The sight of him in his natural habitat has you chuckling to yourself before your gaze rivets back to the collection of tapes you’re supposed to choose from. 

Of course, you’re startled by Jeonghan appearing seemingly out of nowhere right next to you.

“You’re taking your sweet time,” he chuckles, offering up another smile that makes your heart do somersaults. “Say, aren’t you the one who asked me out at Shua’s graduation party?”

You stare him down like he just personally affronted your entire family before clearing your throat—making a show of grabbing a random tape from the rack to examine its contents. Anything to get you to look at anything but Jeonghan’s stupidly beautiful face.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” you laugh uneasily. “And I’m only taking my sweet time because I don’t want to repetitively play an album I don’t even like on my Walkman.”

“Fair. How about I offer up a few suggestions then?”

That makes you arch an eyebrow. “Sure. What do you have for me?”

He hums for a moment before reaching for one of the higher levels—easily accomplished by his height. The gesture has you backing up against the wooden shelf to give him some more space, but the close proximity has your face flaring with warmth. 

“Here,” Jeonghan offers before handing you a cassette tape that looks pretty brand new. “The Beatles is cliché for a reason and I personally think Let It Be was the best way to end their time together. But you might also be interested in Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors. It’s a personal favorite of mine.”

He then proceeds to reach for another tape from the store’s vibrant collection and gives it to you—the lazy smile on his face never faltering. 

“Hmm, which one should I get though?” you wonder while comparing the two. “My best friend over there rarely gets me gifts and I’m not about to abuse the privilege by getting two.”

Jeonghan shrugs. “The other one’s on the house then.” 

The nonchalance in his tone makes your face twist with disbelief. “What?”

“I said it’s on the house. You can have your friend pay for one while you get the other for free,” he explains. “Think of it as a limited time promo of sorts.”

You grimace. “Um, I don’t think I saw any signs outside that said you’re offering a Buy 1 Take 1… Won’t the owner of this place be furious with you or something?”

“Now how can I ever be furious with myself, sweetheart?” 

You’re not sure what baffles you more—the fact that Jeonghan turns out to be his own boss or the fact that he just addressed you with some nickname that has you blushing like a schoolgirl. 

“Y/N, are you done—oh.” 

Saved by the bell—or rather, your best friend—Jihoon walks back into the scene with surprise coloring his features. He’s got a couple of vinyls and a box of guitar picks hefted in his arms as he stares at you and Jeonghan all alone in the aisle.

“Ji, I finally got to pick some out,” you beam while holding the two tapes Jeonghan recommended. “The owner said it’s a Buy 1 Take 1 so…”

He mutters the words the owner under his breath before his gaze zeroes in on Jeonghan who simply waves at him with a cheery air.

“Oh, I-I see,” Jihoon clears his throat. “Thank you for being so generous. You really didn’t have to. She doesn’t even care that much about music in the first—”

“Anyway,” you interject loudly before directing yourself to the counter. “Let’s go check these out. We’re meeting Mingyu and the rest of the guys for lunch, aren’t we?”

You pack up your business with Jeonghan fairly quickly. He places your most recent purchases in individual plastic bags, handing them to you with an ever-present smile. Even when you’re already seated at the diner you chose to hold your farewell lunch in, your mind still toys with the memory of Jeonghan calling you sweetheart.

Though if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t think of Jeonghan much when you eventually move out of your hometown to pursue your work. You make new friends and colleagues, kindle a few romances here and there, and still keep in touch with a select few you’ve left behind.

Of course, Jeonghan does cross your mind whenever you deign to listen to the cassette tapes he personally picked out for you, but starting over completely in a new city every few months certainly gives you a fresher outlook in life.

Yet whenever you come home for the summer, it takes little for you to start regressing into old habits you thought you’d already outgrown. 

TWO SUMMERS AGO

“When did you arrive in town?”

You nearly spill your drink all over that same violet jacket he was wearing the night you first met him—heart rate spiking at the sight of such a gorgeous face. Jeonghan leans across the counter where you and Seungkwan deigned to catch a breather after dancing your hearts out to Earth, Wind, and Fire. Thankfully, you’re able to mask the surprise upon seeing him again with a warm smile.

“Just this afternoon actually,” you chuckle before taking another sip. “I didn’t think you’d still be here. Big city boy like you should’ve gotten tired of this place in the first month.”

“I could say the same for you,” Jeonghan rebuts with an easygoing grin. “You’re a big city girl now too, aren’t you? But you’re back home anyways.”

“Well, Y/N actually has friends to come back to or else we’ll hop on the earliest flight to wherever the hell she is to come get her ourselves,” Seungkwan interjects beside you with a huff. “What’re you even doing here? Don’t you have a date waiting for you or something?”

Despite convincing yourself that you were over that fleeting crush on Jeonghan, you still feel your shoulders sag at the thought that he was here tonight with someone else. Thankfully, neither Seungkwan or Jeonghan notice the shift in your countenance.

“I do, actually. I was just going to pick up a couple drinks I ordered earlier. Can’t a man treat her to a Tequila Sunrise?” Jeonghan pouts and just in time the bartender stationed behind the counter places two glasses of a vibrant-looking drink in front of him. “Well, it’s nice to see you again, Y/N. I hope the tapes I sold you kept you good company while you were gone.”

Oh. He still remembers that.

“They did,” you affirm all while trying to keep yourself from smiling too much. “I can always rely on the taste of someone who literally owns an entire record store.”

“Well, if you need some new tunes to groove to, you know where to find me,” Jeonghan says with an attractive wink, butterflies beating their wings inside your stomach. 

It’s only when Jeonghan walks back to the booth he’s sharing with his supposed date—a pretty blonde with shiny dangling earrings that glimmer in the disco lights—that you realize that maybe you haven’t really gotten over him like you initially thought.

Unfortunately for you, Seungkwan gets the same idea.

“Jihoon’s not gonna be happy about this,” he drawls before taking another sip of his drink. 

“Well, he’s not my mother.”

“Your mother won’t be happy about you getting the hots for someone who sleeps with different women every weekend, but okay.”

You brush off his comments with a shake of your head, downing the rest of your drink as you tug him out of his stool. “Whatever. Come on, let’s go find Soonyoung and the others.”

Apart from your usual circle with Jihoon, Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Soonyoung, they’ve made a couple more friends in the local university they decided to attend together. They introduce you to Seokmin, a theater major with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen—and for some reason, they’ve all managed to befriend Joshua Hong himself as well.

The new additions to your growing group of friends fit right in. Even Joshua, who you’ve always thought of as some snotty trust fund baby, proved to be quite enjoyable company. To your delight, your first night back after almost an entire year of being away turns out much more worthwhile than you initially thought.

For the rest of the night, you try your best to keep your mind off of Jeonghan and focus on mingling with your friends again. God knows how badly you’ve missed them—the occasional phone call can’t ever hold a candle to hanging out with these lunatics in the flesh. 

But despite having loads of fun just watching Soonyoung engage someone apparently named Minghao in a dance-off, you can’t help but feel like someone’s watching you. 

It doesn’t take long for you to find Jeonghan’s eyes in the crowd. 

His date is resting her head on his shoulder—obviously buzzed from the drinks she’s consumed for the night. You’re not sure if it was pure coincidence that your gazes locked in such a packed crowd, but before you can even think about waving at him, Mingyu yanks you to the dancefloor to duke it out with the rest of your friends.

The heat of Jeonghan’s gaze sears into your being like a soldering iron kissing your skin. Every time you try to look for him wherever the boys would unwittingly drag you to have some fun, you’d find his intense stare still affixed on your form. If it was anyone else, you would’ve been unnerved by the scrutiny he’s giving you especially when his date is literally half-asleep next to him in their booth.

But maybe part of you will always want Jeonghan—even if you’ve convinced yourself otherwise.

When the night comes to an end, Mingyu and Seokmin do the honors of carrying a ditzy-drunk Soonyoung inside Joshua’s SUV. It proves to be a fool’s errand at most because of course Soonyoung would make it a point to be difficult while all his well-meaning friends just want to tuck him back to bed—breaking into a quick dance every five steps forward.

“Hey, I’ll just go use the washroom first,” you whisper in Jihoon’s ear. “I won’t be long.”

Your best friend nods. “Yeah, we need someone to look after these idiots. Seungkwan would just provoke Soonyoung into doing something even more stupid.”

“Hey! I heard that!” Seungkwan complains.

You break away from them momentarily with a giggle before hoisting the strap of your purse over your shoulder and making your way to the washroom. 

There are a couple of other disheveled disco-goers trying to make themselves look a bit more presentable. You decide to take a vacant spot by the mirror to touch up your makeup, dusting bits of glitter with unknown origin away from your face. Once you’re all set, the others have long left the washroom—prompting you to make your way out of the building before the owner closes its doors.

However, once you make it back to the main area, you spot Jeonghan on one of the barstools—speaking to a man with dyed blue hair, while his date is nowhere to be found.

“Y/N?” Jeonghan calls out despite your best effort to brisk walk to the door. “You’re still here? Your friends didn’t ditch you or anything, right?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. They’re waiting for me outside. They were struggling to get Soonyoung inside your brother’s car so I thought I’d go freshen up first.”

“Shua’s car? I didn’t know you two were friends,” he comments with brows raised. “I asked him about you back then but he said he and you haven’t spoken two words to each other.”

Wait a minute. He asked Joshua about you?

“That’s because you’re always too friendly, Han,” the other man whose name you don’t know interjects with a roll of his eyes. “You probably know all your customers and mine by name at this point.”

“You’re being funny again, Cheol,” Jeonghan snickers before turning to you once again. “Y/N, this is Seungcheol. He’s the new manager of this particular branch of our father’s discotheques. He’s also a very good friend of mine.”

You glance at Seungcheol with a nod. “Hi.”

“Hmm, your friends are a bunch of regulars here, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around,” he observes. 

“That’s because this little bird has been away for work for the past year,” Jeonghan supplies while twirling a glass of what looks like bourbon in his hand.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow at him. “You sure know a lot about Y/N.” 

“Well, she was one of my first customers and her best friend is one of my most loyal regulars,” he laughs before taking a sip, grinning so handsomely, you can almost feel your knees give out at the sight of him. “Tell Jihoon I said hi once you meet up with them again, yeah?”

“O-Okay,” you stammer, clutching your purse much too tightly for someone who’s just having a casual conversation with a bunch of guys who aren't your friends. 

“I’ll leave you for a while. I’m going to go check on your sister and make sure she hasn’t thrown up all over my desk,” Seungcheol excuses himself with a pat on Jeonghan’s shoulder. 

“Your sister?” you repeat with an incredulous ring to your voice.  

“Mhmm. My biological sister,” Jeonghan hums in affirmation as Seungcheol steps out. “Not so different from you, she’s been traveling in and out of the country for work and decided to pay me a visit while she’s here. Though I didn’t expect her alcohol tolerance to be…like that, which is why I had her rest in Cheol’s office for the meantime.”

Your mind processes his words at lightning speed—quickly pulling out the memory of Jeonghan with his supposed date with her head on his shoulder.

“So your date was your sister?” you clarify. 

“Why are you making it sound like it’s a bad thing? Can’t I take my sister out on a few dates?” He shakes his head.

“I never said anything like that!” 

Jeonghan places a hand on his chest in feigned offense, shaking his head with a dramatic sigh. “It’s alright, I’m quite used to being falsely judged.”

“You are so dramatic,” you snort.

“So I’ve been told,” he laughs airily before putting down his glass, getting up from the stool he decided to occupy. “By the way, there’s a little something that’s been bothering me since you came over here.”

As your present company draws closer to you with each word, your heart swells with equal parts anticipation and dreadful curiosity. 

Something’s been bothering him? Did you perhaps do something wrong? That’s a little impossible because you could’ve sworn you’ve done your best to ignore him the entire—

“You’ve got some glitter right…” Jeonghan murmurs as he cups the side of your face with a warm hand, thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth. 

“Here.”

It’s as if time came to a standstill when he does it—holding both your gaze and your breath captive in the lush brown of his eyes. You always wondered what it would feel like to have Jeonghan’s skin on yours and of all the ways it could’ve happened, this isn’t exactly part of your list of delusions.

He’s so close and so pretty and he smells so good—

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out sometime?” 

You don’t even realize that your thoughts have translated it into words until Jeonghan’s expression morphs from relaxed to mildly surprised. He pulls away only a little before his lips twitch into a smile that borders on taunting.

“Oh? You’re still on a mission, huh?” Jeonghan simpers. “You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?” 

Maybe it’s just the alcohol you’ve consumed making you just a bit braver than you usually are, but your mouth just won’t stop running.

“Well, I wouldn’t be this persistent if you didn’t give any signs that you might’ve lied to me the first time I asked.” 

“Hm? And what makes you think I was lying?”

Your shoulders heave with a soft laugh, folding your arms together as you hold his gaze with confidence oozing out of your posture. “Yoon Jeonghan, if you really aren’t interested, then why were you watching me the entire night? I’m not blind you know. You weren’t being subtle either.”

“What if I was just extremely happy to see one of my first ever customers back in town?” he chuckles, the tone of his voice aggravatingly leveled for someone you’re supposedly cornering. “And sorry to say, sweetheart, but I don’t really go out with any of Shua’s friends.”

His reasoning makes you heave an incredulous laugh as you recall the way he stared at you earlier tonight like you have a target on your back. You want to make it a point that you’ve only considered his stepbrother as a friend on this same night, but decide on going at this with a different approach.

“Okay,” you respond coolly, challenging the nonchalant smile on his face with one of your own. “If you don’t go out with any of Joshua’s friends, would you sleep with one?”

You don’t know how, but you’ve managed to make the distance between you even smaller. Jeonghan doesn’t budge even as you stare at him with fire in your eyes—even when your skin prickles with electricity from the sparks of something inevitably flying between the two of you. 

Once upon a time, you resigned yourself to the fact that Jeonghan would be nothing more than a fleeting, unrequited crush. But who knew that all it would take is a single night after months of not seeing him to make you realize that maybe things aren’t really what they seem?

“My, I’ve never had anyone come onto me this strongly before,” he muses with a soft laugh. “But your friends must be looking for you. No one takes that long to retouch in the ladies’ room, no? You best be on your way, Y/N.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” you deadpan with an amused smirk. “If I told you I’d leave you alone and never bother you with this again if you really, truly aren’t interested, will you answer me then?”

A voice that sounds like a strange mix of Jihoon and Seungkwan wails in the back of your semi-inebriated mind. What the fuck are you doing?!

You want to respond back that you completely know what you’re doing, but you’re well aware that the half the words you’ve uttered during the entire course of the conversation would never even get past your lips had you been in a better state of mind.

But for all of Jeonghan’s inclination of playing hard-to-get, he leans closer to your ear—the hand he places on your bare shoulder nearly searing his mark onto your skin. 

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

This game you’re playing with Jeonghan eventually becomes commonplace.

You spend a chunk of it deliberately getting under his skin. While you certainly made all those bold declarations under the influence, you quickly realized that the day after Jeonghan gave you his cryptic answer, you’re completely serious about this so-called mission.

So you brought out all sorts of ammunition that would make your mother weep with how you’re practically flaying yourself open for a man. You’d purposely wear tight-fitting clothes that emphasized the dips and curves of your body, show up to every night out where you were certain Jeonghan would be present, and of course, hang out at his record store more times than an average person would willingly spend in her boring old hometown.

Jeonghan—ever the infuriatingly level-headed person he is—takes all of it in stride. Where your friends have raised eyebrows with how you’re openly pursuing the most un-pursueable man you all know, he doesn’t treat you any differently from the way he usually does. 

He still entertains you whenever you sneak up on him at the disco, still accommodates your unnecessary purchases in his store…

Still flat-out rejects your advances even if he’s borderline flirting back.

It’s a constant push and pull that Jihoon might be sick of hearing whenever you deign to come over to tell him about the progress of your pursuit—or lack thereof. But since he’s taken up the mantle of your best friend, this is the fate that he has to live with. 

“You do know that you’re dancing with a wolf over there, right?” he points out one night while he’s busy writing a song and you’re flipping through a magazine on his bed. “The other guys have told me enough stories about how he’s always got a different date every time they’re at the disco. He’s a raging Casanova, Y/N. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“How can I get hurt when I’m just after a good time?” you chuckle as your ears ring every time he strums his guitar. “If he’s such a Casanova, then why hasn’t he tried to make a move when I’m openly expressing how into him I really am? Have been for, like, two years now!”

“If I knew the thought process behind how he responds to you, I wouldn’t be stressing as much as I have for the past two years,” he grumbles.

“You worry too much about me, Ji. I’ve already fooled around with some guys here and there. What’s another one from my hometown?”

Jihoon turns to glance at you with a tired look on his face. “But Jeonghan isn’t just some guy. He’s Jeonghan.” 

You want to refute that statement by saying that you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. But for someone who mostly keeps to himself, Jihoon has an extremely good perception on things. He probably already knows things about Jeonghan even if you don’t say them outright.

The owner of the record store in Main Street is undoubtedly alluring. He’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen—beautiful enough to have you hope time and time again that you can call him yours. What’s more is that the chemistry between you was established the moment he teased the possibility of you getting what you’ve wanted since you met. 

Maybe next time, sweetheart.

No matter how risky it is to toe this jagged cliff of your mutual interest, you’ve always been a glutton for danger.

ONE SUMMER AGO

Your game plan after settling your bags into your house is simple: drop by Jeonghan’s store to let you know that the biggest thorn on his side is back in town and check if he magically wants to fuck you this time around. It’s a routine that your friends have long grown tired of—seeing no point in interfering when you’re so dead-set to get with Jeonghan however you can.

It’s pretty pathetic, but you’re anything but a quitter.

Although contrary to popular belief, screwing Yoon Jeonghan isn’t always the only thing running through your head whenever you’re home. Take right now for example.

You’d just finished unpacking your things into your room when you realized that you’d forgotten to place one of the cassette tapes that Jihoon personally made for you inside its usual protective container—discovering that the outer casing was cracked through the middle while the plastic film lolled out of the rupture, dangerously close to being torn in the state you found it in.

If it were any other cassette tape—even the ones Jeonghan personally picked out for you before you left—you wouldn’t have been fazed. These things are replaceable, especially when Jeonghan would have a dozen other copies waiting for you in his store.

Except this tape in particular can’t be replaced because Jihoon spent a fortune getting it personally manufactured for you. He recorded a few of the songs he personally wrote into the film and had it mailed to you as a surprise—a thoughtful attempt at easing your homesickness for the holidays. 

There wasn’t a day when you didn’t listen to your best friend sing with the help of your Walkman. Your old cassette tapes from Jeonghan definitely took a backseat once you received Jihoon’s present in the mail with a letter he personally wrote attached to the package. 

And now it’s broken because you were an idiot who didn’t pack it somewhere more secure—

“Sweetheart, I’m closing early tonight. If you’re going to ask if I want to sleep with you, you should try…”

Jeonghan’s playful tone falters when he sees that you’re sniffling in the oversized parka you hurriedly pulled from the coatrack before heading over to the only person who can possibly salvage Jihoon’s precious gift. You don’t say anything as you place the broken cassette tape on top of the wooden counter—eyes downcast as Jeonghan peruses what you’ve presented for him to inspect.

“T-That’s really important to me,” you murmur, wiping the tears off your face as your eyes rivet themselves on the smiley that Jihoon doodled right next to the message he wrote for you on the outer cover. “Can you fix it? I’ll pay you up front.”

As the store owner you’ve been crazy about for the better part of three years examines the crime scene before him, he lets out a soft laugh that has you glancing at him inquisitively.

“So Jihoon made you your very own tape, huh? How sweet of him.” He smiles comfortingly—devoid of the usual mirth and amusement he typically showcases in your presence. “Don’t worry too much, yeah? The outer shell is damaged, but the tape reel itself is still intact. I’ll just replace the casing and you’ll still be able to listen to this just fine.”

Your eyes widen ever-so slightly. “Really?”

Jeonghan’s smile spreads even wider as he leans across the counter. He’s tall enough that he can reach you without much difficulty, his knuckles softly brushing against your cheek in a quaint attempt at drying your tears. 

The sight of him so close to you is equal parts foreign and familiar. His gesture reminds you of the time he brushed some glitter off your face last summer, but the provocative look in his eyes back then is nowhere to be found. All Jeonghan offers you right now is solace over something that you probably overreacted about. 

“I’ll go check if I have some spare cassette cases in the back before I try to fix this, okay? You can have a look around the shop in the meantime.”

Jeonghan punctuates the words with two soft pats on your cheek, his soft smile never faltering as he directs himself to the door behind the counter—Jihoon’s broken present carefully cupped in his hands.

As promised, your knight-in-denim-overalls manages to fix one of the most precious gifts you’ve received in your lifetime. You nearly jump to embrace him when Jeonghan reemerges from the back with the cassette tape more or less good as new, but he quickly side-steps your attempt out of the fear that you’ll end up breaking the damn thing all over again.

“How much do I owe you?” You’re practically humming with glee as you bring out your wallet from the pocket of your jeans. “Thank fucking god, Jeonghan. I was so close to losing my mind over it.”

“I’m the one who revived this patient and you’re thanking god? Way to discredit an artist for his craft.” The store owner pouts. “I’ll let this slide and tell you that you don’t have to pay for a thing.”

“I insist.”

“You can pay for it in other ways, you know.”

Once the words are out of his mouth, silence settles over the two of you in near-deafening fashion. The bustling of cars and other vehicles from outside is the only sound you could hear as you mull over what his words could possibly imply.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” You gape, eyeing him incredulously. 

As Jeonghan hands you back your perfectly repaired cassette tape, the corners of his mouth twitch with a conniving smile. “What do you think I’m saying, sweetheart?”

That you can pay for his services with sex? Isn’t that the usual implication when it comes to things like this? But that doesn’t seem right. 

Even if you should be elated from being so much closer to your goal, it feels like you’re cheating. You’ve been subjected to this seemingly endless chase for so long that in the ideal event that Jeonghan would finally cave and let you sleep with him, this definitely isn’t the way he’d concede. You know him well enough to say that for sure.

So instead of pouncing at your prize like some slobbering mutt, you choose your words carefully—making sure to not step into that conversational bear trap he so obviously set up.

“No idea. You tell me.”

Jeonghan simpers before dusting off his overalls, carding his fingers through his dark hair. He’s wearing it a little longer this summer and you’re really digging the look more than you probably should.

“How about we stop by the roller rink later? My treat. You can pay me back with your company.” 

A large scowl immediately roots itself on your face. “Aren’t you already doing too much?” For someone who’s been pestering you like a fly every summertime, you’d like to add but obviously didn’t. “Seriously, let me just pay you for the repair and we’ll be even.”

Adamantly, he shakes his head. “I don’t have any rates for tape repairs, so consider it as a favor. I also mentioned that I was closing up early tonight, remember?”

“Uh, what does that have to do with—”

“Seungcheol begged me to come to the roller rink to teach him how to skate because apparently this lady he’s been eyeing is a figure skater. Poor guy doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of her on their first date this weekend,” Jeonghan explains swiftly before chuckling to himself. “He’s kind of unteachable so I thought I’d bring some backup.”

Your face twists with even more confusion. “And what made you think I’m any good at roller skating?”

Jeonghan shrugs. “Gut feeling.”

And that’s how you wound up in the town roller rink at eight in the evening when you promised Luna you’d be home to watch The Exorcist on your father’s VHS player. 

Jeonghan is awfully difficult to say no to when he’s the one doing all the pestering and even though your roller skating skills are subpar at best, at least you’re not as pitiful as a man named Choi Seungcheol.

“These aren’t even roller blades,” you point out all while stifling a laugh. “What’s the deal, Cheol? Is your center of gravity that shitty?”

“Say that to me when we’re in a taekwondo match, I dare you,” Seungcheol huffs as he grips the metal railing for dear life. “The things I do for a gorgeous girl…”

Jeonghan skates over to his friend with a smirk, tugging on his arm. “Come on, now. You won’t impress your date if you keep ambling by the sides like a spaz.”

In an attempt to become the devil’s advocate, you take Seungcheol’s other arm in your grasp as well. “Yeah. If you weren’t confident about this, why’d you ask her out here? Actually, who on Earth schedules the first date at a roller rink?” 

“I wanted her to know that we have common interests!” 

“And skating is your common interest?”

“...No, but at least she’d get the idea that I care about what she does for a living.”

With the newfound determination to not embarrass himself in front of the gorgeous figure skater, Seungcheol lets you and Jeonghan teach him the art of not falling on your ass every time he glides forward. This goes on for about thirty or-so minutes until he finally gets the hang of it and is out and about in the rink full of teenagers that are looking at him funny.

This is when you decide to wind down and hang out by the railings as well, watching your student test out if he can do a little spin now that he’s sort of mastered the basics. Unfortunately for Seungcheol, he slips and lands on his back after the attempt—immediately scrambling back to his feet before any of the younger skaters could laugh at him for the mishap.

“Hope you don’t mind that I whisked you off for an impromptu tutoring session.”

You don’t even startle when Jeonghan materializes beside you like he almost always does—his eyes also trained on his poor friend while he practices what he’s been taught. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you stare at him with a shake of your head. 

“I’m supposed to be marathoning horror movies with my sister, you know,” you chuckle. “Dunno why you asked me to come with you to teach the unteachable, but I’m glad I could help.”

He lets out a quiet laugh of his own. “I just wanted to give you a warm welcome is all. Haven’t seen you in a year.”

“Even if all I do is ask if you want to have sex with me?” 

“Hey, all friendships are built on different foundations. Ours just happens to be more unorthodox than the rest,” Jeonghan points out, like it’s common knowledge. “Besides, don’t you think it gives the friendship more spice when one of us keeps asking the other if they want to sleep together?”

You punch him in the shoulder. “You’re so weird.”

“And you still want me to fuck you despite that. I think that says a lot more about you than it does about me.” He grins and your throat constricts with how pretty he looks.

Just before you can open your mouth to dish out another snarky response, the song that comes up on the speakers switches into something familiar—the crowd of skaters immediately erupting into cheers.

“Oooh, Dancing Queen,” Jeonghan marvels as he pushes himself off the railing before yanking your hand. “Let’s go, sweetheart. Can’t let Cheol have all the fun now, can we?”

You’re no dancer but you’ve spent so many nights with your friends at the disco that you can’t really refuse when ABBA says that you can dance and you can jive. It’s a little more challenging when you’re literally wearing roller skates and Yoon Jeonghan is spinning you around while his head is thrown back in laughter, but you can manage,

It feels so strange to be doing this with him. You’ve gotten used to just coming up to Jeonghan to hit on him and get rejected before going about the rest of your day, so you don’t really know the protocol when it comes to fooling around with him in a roller rink. 

But instead of psyching yourself out too much, you just let yourself loose in the moment.

It’s…nice. You can feel the music in your veins as you burn the memory of Jeonghan grinning as he twirls you amidst a sea of roller skaters. Something pangs in your chest—a feeling you’ve felt with your other romantic prospects from the past, but never with Jeonghan.

Just when the song is about to end, however, you lose your footing and end up slipping onto the polished wooden floor. It would’ve been less embarrassing if you hadn’t hooked your arm around Jeonghan’s waist to balance yourself, but you both end up toppling into a heap.

“Shit, sorry!” you groan, rubbing your tailbone as you try to collect yourself. Your legs are right on top of Jeonghan’s though, so it proves to be somewhat difficult to get back to your feet without bracing your hands on the ground. 

Which is exactly what you end up doing just to keep yourself from face planting.

Jeonghan isn’t able to school his expression fast enough when you straddle his hips in the middle of the roller rink—eyes lit up with surprise as you stammer apology after apology. You really want to fucking stand up but you’re so shaken up by the chain of events that you can’t find the right balance. 

“So much for your center of gravity, huh?” 

You and Jeonghan both jump at the sound of Seungcheol’s voice—the other man sporting a smirk of his own as he stands over the two of you. Thankfully, instead of simpering at the fact that you got a taste of your own medicine, he offers a hand for you to take—one that you take more gingerly than you meant to. 

The three of you eventually hobble back to the waiting lounge together, making jabs at each other’s slip-ups for the night. Hanging out with these two men is just as fun as hanging out with your old friends and you’re glad to know that you’ve found such worthwhile company despite being away for most of the year.

After returning your skates, Jeonghan tells you and Seungcheol that he’s just going on a quick bathroom break and you agreed to wait for him before heading home. Your student then takes the opportunity to strike up a conversation. 

“Hmph. And you thought this wasn’t an ideal spot for a first date.”

Puzzled, you glance at Seungcheol with a questioning look. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Han,” he continues. “This is your first date, isn’t it? Took him long enough.”

Took him long enough? Seungcheol’s words sound so silly, you actually end up laughing at the foolishness of it all. “What? Jeonghan? Taking me out on a date? You didn’t hit your head while you were practicing, did you?”

“Hey, I might be a newbie, but once I learn, I never forget it,” Seungcheol huffs before crossing his arms. “And, yeah, is it so strange for Han to ask you out? Sure, you’re never really here like half the time—”

“I wouldn’t say half the time. I only ever get short breaks in the summer”

“Hey, summer breaks aren’t short… Okay, maybe they kind of are, but that’s not the point!” 

“Whatever your point is, it’s pointless,” you snort. “He always turns me down whenever I ask if he wants to sleep together. How could he possibly want to take me out on a date?”

Seungcheol makes a face. “You’ve been asking him what?” 

“...If he wants to sleep together?”

“Well, that’s because you’ve been asking the wrong question!”

“I’m not! Look, that wasn’t always my go-to. The first time we met, I asked if he wanted to go out sometime. He said no. And it’s been a…thing between us for me to constantly ask even if I know he’ll just turn me down.”

“...Doesn’t that just make you pathetic?”

“You know, you’re a lot different when you’re outside the disco.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Anyway, you should really recalibrate the way you’re trying to get with Jeonghan because even if he’s the biggest manwhore I’ve met, when he actually gets serious, he—”

“Now what could you two possibly be talking about?” 

Like he always does, Jeonghan waltzes into the conversation with the most opportune timing. He glances at you and his friend curiously as he slings his arms around both of your shoulders—a conspiratorial grin weaseling its way onto his face. “Sounds to me like it’s something interesting.”

“I was just about to tell Seungcheol that you don’t go out with Joshua’s friends, hence the complete impossibility of this being a first date,” you clarify—face heating up with embarrassment at how ridiculous you sound right now. “I mean, would a proper first date include teaching your hopeless friend how to roller skate?”

Seungcheol snorts. “You obviously don’t know what Han considers as a proper first date.”

“But she’s completely right about that specific preference of mine,” Jeonghan agrees without missing a beat. “Now that this is all cleared up, how about we drive her back to her house? It’s getting late.”

That night, you climb under the covers of your bed reeling from that conversation you had with Seungcheol. You still think it’s downright silly for him to assume that Jeonghan took you out on a date when he clearly just sees you as a friend. 

Yet when you think about it a bit more, isn’t it more ridiculous for you to still be going at this game you’ve been playing with him for the past three years? Asking a man who’s way out of your league to sleep with you like some hooker on the streets? 

The way Jeonghan receives your advances doesn’t help your predicament in the slightest either. Most men would be unnerved by the fact that some woman keeps trying to get in his pants, but Jeonghan practically considers it as a thing that friends do. He simply turns you down without treating you any differently, and you’re starting to second-guess whether he’s just that good of a person or if he’s only keeping you around to amuse himself.

Seungkwan would tell you that you’ve got little to no respect for yourself. Jihoon would just sigh and tell you that he honestly expected better from you, and you wouldn’t fault either of them, really.

Because even when the odds are stacked against you, you’ll always find your way back to Yoon Jeonghan.

THE PRESENT

Much to everyone’s surprise, you’re able to go two straight weeks without seeking out the object of your prolonged affections. 

You make plans with anyone and everyone else there is to make plans with—going on a picnic with your sister, helping Jihoon write a song, hitting the arcade with Seungkwan. Anything to keep yourself away from Jeonghan.

Hell, you even agreed to meet Jeon Jungkook in the flesh when Mingyu finally remembered that he set you up with him a month ago. 

First impressions last and Jungkook definitely blew all your expectations out of the water when he pulled up in front of your house with a shiny Harley Davidson that boasted far more horsepower than your father’s old minivan. He’s the textbook definition of a badboy if his piercings and full sleeve of tattoos are anything to go by.

But for someone who hasn’t even met you before, he was thoughtful enough to bring flowers for your mother, a bottle of wine for your father, and Stephen King’s newest release for Luna when he arrived at your door with a boyish smile.

When Jihoon caught wind of the news, he immediately came over to your house to confirm if it’s actually true—a completely drastic shift from your usual habit of coming over at his.

Apparently, your mother ran into him at the grocery store and fessed up all about this wonderful biker who took Y/N out on a candle-lit dinner at the only decent restaurant in town to your best friend. It’s painfully obvious that Jihoon mirrors her excitement when you tell him that yes, your first date with Jungkook actually went better than expected. 

You thought Jungkook was the type of guy that your best friend would avoid at all costs. Jihoon hates loud noises that don’t contribute to his musical creativity and your newest flame’s motorcycle would definitely be an issue if your best friend ever hears him rev it up. 

And yet when you finally introduce them to each other, they hit it off at lightning speed. Turns out Jungkook was also a music major when he was in college and you find yourself lost in a sea of jargon as the pair engrosses themselves in a conversation regarding their mutual interests. 

Jungkook gets along swimmingly with your other friends too.

You should’ve trusted Mingyu’s judgment when he first told you that his friend can blend into any circle he chucks himself into because now you can only watch in awe as he and Sonyoung duke it out at your usual disco—exchanging high fives when the song on the jukebox comes to an end and the rest of the crowd cheers at them from the sides.

“How’re you liking our little town so far?” you ask when he returns to the booth you’ve claimed for the two of you, giggling when he leans down to press a kiss on your cheek. 

“You seriously downplay this place too much,” Jungkook sighs, unable to suppress the grin on his face. “Sure, there aren’t a lot of things to do, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who’s as passionate about dance battles as Soonyoung over there. Joshua, Seokmin and Seungkwan are brilliant company, too. Oh, and how could I forget about Jihoon? I’m seriously pissed because Mingyu didn’t introduce me to them sooner.”

Your bottom lip swells into a pout. “Only them, not me?”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh that makes your skin tingle, leaning closer enough that you can feel his breath on your face. When he smiles, his lip ring glints in the colorful lights of the disco.

“Baby, if we’ve met any sooner, you’ll probably get sick of me.”

“And why is that, Mr. Jeon?” you whisper. 

He hums for a moment, tracing the outline of your lips with the heat of his gaze. “I’ve been told that I’m a very passionate lover. You might not be able to handle it.”

“And who’s to say you’re the judge of that?”

“Well, we can get out of here so you can see for yourself, no?”

Your face heats up at the notion of what he’s trying to imply. It’s a little silly because you’ve spent so much of your time practically throwing yourself at Jeonghan that when another man expresses interest in you, you suddenly clam up out of embarrassment. 

Jeonghan…

Even if you’re being pinned in place by Jungkook’s weightful stare, your gaze still goes over his shoulder—straight to the bar where you know he’s been watching you. 

The moment your gang of loud friends piled into the disco one after the other, you were quick to pick up on Jeonghan’s presence as he spoke to Seungcheol at the bar and from the way he snapped his head in the direction of your group, you like to think he’s just as privy to yours too.

Especially when his eyes zeroed in on Jungkook’s arm around your waist.

This time around, instead of hounding the guy with the same question you’ve been asking for years, you do your best to ignore his existence altogether. It was easier than you expected because Jungkook has the ability to make you forget about everything else when you’re in his company. He’s charming and sweet in ways that don’t leave you second guessing his intentions. The man wants you and he needs you to know that in whatever way he can manage.

But even if you’ve got a handsome badboy under your spell, Jungkook’s charms don’t work on you with the same intensity as a single gaze from Jeonghan.

He isn’t smiling at you like he usually is—lips nearly twisted into a frown as he watches Jungkook crowd you in your shared booth. While most of your body language would suggest that you’re receiving your beau’s affections openly, the fact that your eyes are trained on the man you’ve been trying your best to get over would tell Jeonghan another story entirely. 

Which is what ultimately makes you let out a breathy laugh before lightly pushing Jungkook off of you.

“Easy there, tiger. We’ve been dating for, what? A month?” you remind him with a somewhat forced smile. “You might be one of the two hottest guys I’ve met in my life, but I still believe in the art of taking your time.”

“The two hottest guys?” Jungkook parrots, amusement coloring his face as he leans back on the leather upholstery of your seat. “Who’s the other one then?”

You force yourself not to look at Jeonghan so you wouldn’t give yourself away. After all, you haven’t lost yet. It’s perfectly normal to still think about the man you may or may not have been in love with for years when you’re in the middle of getting over him. Whatever you and Jungkook have going isn’t a lost cause just yet.

“No one important,” you insist before tugging him back to his feet . “How about you come dance with me instead of asking silly questions, loverboy?”

A hint of skepticism crosses his face for just a moment before he concedes, letting you drag him back to the dancefloor as you try your damnedest to ignore the way Jeonghan’s gaze never strayed far from you for the rest of the night.

Summer is almost coming to an end and your boss has already mailed you some documents containing the details of your next job. You read through them while you’re bundled up in blankets in the living room with Jihoon, who seems more excited about it than you are.

“You’re going to Paris?” your best friend gawks. “That’s actually insane. I thought only the filthy rich could go there in this economy.”

“Well, if you land yourself some work in a pretty well-off company, you can gain more benefits than you’d otherwise expect,” you chuckle. “How about you come with me? You can go busking in front of The Louvre or something. Then the Parisians would discover just how talented one Lee Jihoon actually is.”

“Or I could get arrested by the Parisian police force.” Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the offer, but I am not as ambitious as you are.”

“Hmph. Suit yourself then.”

While the two of you are busy planning an itinerary for the entirety of your trip, the telephone rings down the hall and you get up to answer it. 

“Hey, beautiful,” Jungkook’s smooth voice rings in your ears after asking the caller’s identity, making your face warm with how flustered you are. “Heard tonight was best friend’s night so I wasn’t really supposed to bother you, but Gyu wanted to throw me a surprise birthday party and he was wondering if you and Jihoon want to come with.”

“It’s not a surprise anymore if you’re the one inviting guests though?” you point out with a laugh. “And your birthday isn’t until a few days.”

“Yeah, you’re right, but one thing about Mingyu is that he can’t keep a secret for the life of him. What’s more is that we already have dinner plans for my special day, remember?” Jungkook sighs. “Anyway, are you two going to show up or am I gonna be miserable the entire night because you’re not here?”

“Where even is here, Jungkook?” 

“At the disco, where else? Mingyu rented out the entire place for the occasion.”

“Hmm, maybe you should start dating Mingyu instead.”

“God, no. So are you coming or not?”

It’s funny how you don’t even hesitate when you answer, “Sure thing. I’ll go tell Jihoon about it.”

“Aw, baby, you sure know how to make the birthday boy happy. See you soon.”

You hang up on Jungkook after bidding him a farewell of your own, heart beating just a little bit faster at the exchange. You know you’re not obligated to come to his not-so surprise birthday party since you already made plans with Jihoon to marathon a couple of movies, but even if you and Jungkook aren’t really a thing just yet, you still feel like you should at least be there to celebrate alongside your friends.

Jihoon agrees to it without a hitch—god knows how much he adores Jungkook. And as the two of you are getting ready to go out again, an idea pops into your head.

“You can go ahead of me to the disco. I’ll just go buy Jungkook a present first.”

Your best friend glances at you, confused. “I can accompany you, you know. It’s no big deal.” 

But despite his kind offer, you shake your head adamantly. “I really want this to be kept between me and him, Ji. Is that alright?”

“Ugh. Fine, whatever.”

There’s some truth to what you’ve told Jihoon, but everyone knows that only relaying some of the truth is as good as lying. 

You tug your jacket tighter around your shoulders as you stand in front of a familiar record store. You’ve been to and from this place so often in the past that you’ve practically memorized Jeonghan’s operating hours by heart. 

You’re going to prove to yourself that you’re over that phase in your life. Once you buy a vinyl by this one bossa nova artist that Jungkook really likes, you’ll kiss your once-prominent obsession with Jeonghan goodbye.

Not like it’s difficult, right? Jungkook has always been sweet and reassuring where Jeonghan gave you nothing but uncertainty and countless instances asking yourself, what am I even doing? It’s practically a no brainer to choose the former over the latter.

You suck in a deep breath. The thundering of your heart is too loud to ignore, but before you’re overcome with nerves, you step straight inside.

It’s empty like it always is when closing time is just a few minutes away. Jeonghan’s already mopping up the floor of his shop—something that surprised you the first time because you didn’t think people who came from old money actually knew how to do chores. 

You also notice that he’s already changed out of his denim overalls—already donned in an outfit that he would no doubt be wearing to the disco right after he closes up shop. A velvet maroon shirt with a few buttons undone that’s tucked inside a pair of black trousers. Before you can catch yourself salivating over how fucking good he looks in that outfit, his gaze flickers to you in an instant.

“Hm? Been a while since you’ve dropped by, sweetheart,” he comments before stuffing the mop back in a supply closet and sanitizing his hands. “You’ve been busy with that boyfriend of yours, haven’t you?”

So he has noticed. “You could say that.”

He nods before stepping over to you, that stupidly disarming grin ever-present on his pretty face. “Hm? Is that trouble in paradise I sense? Don’t tell me he hasn’t bothered to put a label on things. What a waste.”

You planned on making this gruesome exchange with Jeonghan swift, but you completely forgot that he has a knack for getting under people’s nerves when he feels like it. “Why would it be a waste when we’re just taking our time? Besides, I’m not here to talk to you about me and Jungkook. I’m here to buy something.”

“For your little badboy? Now what could he possibly know about the finer things in life? That man looks like he wouldn’t even be able to play a triangle.”

Just when you managed to spot a record that you’re certain Jungkook has mentioned to you in passing, Jeonghan’s uncalled for words have you scowling at him. “Really? I know your family’s loaded and all, but you never really struck me as the pretentious type, Jeonghan. Mind you, Jungkook is a music major, and that’s low, even for you. 

He simpers with folded arms, one foot tapping impatiently on the linoleum. “Well, forgive me, sweetheart, I don’t think I can react with my usual finesse when someone else is encroaching on what belongs to me.”

You don’t even think it’s possible, but your scowl only deepens. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You’ve always been mine, no?” 

…How he has the guts to tell you that after every single instance he’s rejected you is unfathomable. You do not want to have this conversation right now, so you quickly pluck Jungkook’s present from the assortment of vinyls before storming off to the cashier—mentally cursing Jeonghan for being so self-sufficient that he doesn’t see the need to hire other people but himself. Now you’ll be forced to deal with him until you’re finished with your purchase.

“How can you stomach buying your little badboy a birthday gift when we both know your heart is still tethered to me, sweetheart?” Jeonghan taunts you from behind as he shuffles towards the counter. “I thought this was just some ploy to get me jealous, but you’re acting a bit too realistically for comfort. Have you forgotten who you were trying to get with for the past few years? 

“Have you forgotten who you’ve rejected time and time again?” you deadpan with a glare. “You made it clear whenever I asked that you weren’t interested. You know, Jihoon and the others kept calling you a player, so I never really understood why you never tried to get with me—someone who’s literally throwing herself at your feet every summer.”

Jeonghan lets out an incredulous laugh. “Why do you think I turned you down each time? You’re always asking if I want to have sex with you, but have you ever considered that maybe I don’t just think of you as another notch on my belt? That I actually wanted to get to know you past the sexual pretense?”

His words are quick to turn your heart into stone. “Then why didn’t you say that to me back then? Why are you only coming clean about this when I’m finally ready to move on with someone else?”

“That’s because I like you, Y/N,” he sighs, jaw clenching as if he has the right to be more frustrated than you are. “I didn’t want to just sleep with you. I wanted us to be friends first before I pursued you, but then you went on about asking if I wanted to fuck each and every time you’re home. I was just being careful because I don’t want to give anyone the power to trample on my feelings.”

“So you thought it was okay to trample on mine?”

The exasperation on Jeonghan’s face seemingly melts away with that simple response. You’re still staring at him with fire in your eyes—the kind he’s used to admiring from afar whenever you’re feeling your emotions a little more intensely than usual. But for once in his life, Jeonghan is unable to formulate some clever retort.

“Just fucking scan my vinyl so I can leave,” you grumble before sliding the record across the counter. “If you don’t have anything worthwhile to say to me, just don’t say anything at all.”

“Do you really mean it?”

Your whole body freezes up when you feel Jeonghan standing directly behind you, caging you between his tall frame and the counter. Both of his lean arms are braced against the wooden surface and you make a mistake of whirling around to face him. 

“M-Mean what?” you stammer, suddenly losing whatever conviction your voice once held because of his goddamn eyes. They look so pretty even if they’re pleading for something you can’t put your finger on.

“That you’ve already moved on with him?” he murmurs. “If it’s true then…you can forget that this conversation ever happened. Go celebrate his birthday and make him your boyfriend or whatever.” 

When Jeonghan leans closer, his lips brush the shell of your ear—making you shiver with anticipation. “But if you think you’d still choose me after all, then I promise you that I won’t waste your time anymore. I’m ready to own up to what I feel about you even if I deserve none of your reciprocation at this point.”

He’s right. He doesn’t deserve even an ounce of what you would’ve been willing to give before you saw reason. Jihoon was smart to come to the conclusion that Jeonghan only kept you around to entertain himself, but once losing you became a possibility, he suddenly put on this show of buttering you up.

Admitting things he should’ve told you years ago. Telling you he likes you only when you’ve already got your eyes set on someone else. 

The logical thing to do is turn him down and walk away from Yoon Jeonghan once and for all. You could do it—you could leave the convoluted history the two of you shared in the past. You’ve already been doing it with Jungkook for the past month. But no matter how much you convince yourself otherwise, there’s a singular truth that you won’t be able to escape: 

You’ll always find your way back to Yoon Jeonghan.

The next few minutes are a blur of desperate touches and equally desperate kisses. You don’t remember when exactly you lunged in for the kill, but the next thing you know, Jeonghan has you propped up on the counter of his store as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders and hikes your skirt further up your thighs.

“Wanted you for so long,” Jeonghan sighs against your lips and you feel like he’s exercising active restraint so he wouldn’t rip the delicate fabric of your skirt. “But I needed you to take me seriously so you wouldn’t think you’re just another girl I slept with.”

You bark out a condescending laugh before reclaiming his lips, shoving your tongue down his throat until he’s groaning into you—fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. 

“You obviously didn’t take me seriously with how much you fucked with my head.”

“I wasn’t fucking with your head, sweetheart. I was just biding my time.”

“So the thing that finally got you to crack is seeing another guy get his hands on me,” you point out with a quiet chuckle, trying not to moan when his lips trace a scorching path down the skin of your neck. “I didn’t take you to be the jealous type. If I knew, I would’ve paraded Mingyu inside your shop ages ago.”

“Hm?” He hums—a noncommittal noise that has you shivering beneath his touch anyways. “Are you saying that you would fuck Mingyu too? When you’re already cozying up to his best friend? You’re quite greedy, huh?”

You let out a quiet whimper when you feel him press two fingers against your clothed core—wanting him, needing him. “J-Jeonghan, someone outside might see…”

“Then we better put on a show, right, sweetheart?” 

The fact that Jeonghan calling you sweetheart incites a more visceral reaction out of you compared to Jungkook calling you baby makes a clump of guilt fester in your chest. The vinyl you’re supposed to get for him as a present sits idly a few inches away, but all of it is forgotten once Jeonghan reminds you of what you really want. 

It’s fucking humiliating how your cunt gushes at his words. Jeonghan is clearly pleased with the mess he finds between your thighs after pushing your underwear to the side. You curl yourself into his chest, twitching every time his fingers graze your clit. He laughs, low and dangerous in your ear all while he lathers your slit in your own essence.

“I’d love to take my time and eat you out right here, but I don’t think I have the patience just yet,” he whispers before teasing your entrance with the occasional dip of his fingers. “I’ll make you come with my mouth some other time. For now, I think I just need to see you crying on my fingers and my cock.”

His crooked digits slide into you with perfect ease, stretching out your gummy walls so you’d be able to take something more. You cling onto Jeonghan like a lifeline as he murmurs a string of filthy musings into your ear.

“Has your little badboy finger-fucked you this good, sweet thing?” he rasps. “In fact, has he even kissed you?”

“H-He’s kissed me once,” you admit, the walls of your cunt clenching around his intrusive fingers as you try to recall how you and Jungkook shared your first real kiss in the parking lot of the movie theater. “But I wished it was you instead…”

“Really now?” Jeonghan chuckles, clearly emboldened by your honesty. “You still think of me even when you’re with someone else, hm? Well you’re in luck sweetheart.”

“I do the same thing, too.”

Your eyes flutter with pleasure when he curls his fingers inside your tight channel, his free hand toying with your clit with each pass he makes. Jeonghan praises you for spreading your legs so prettily for him, for being his good girl and no one else’s. Every word he breathes into your ears only makes you wetter by the second and you fear that each time he plunges his digits into your heat, someone outside would hear the squelching flesh.

“J-Jeonghan,” you whimper, thighs quivering with the need for release. “Let me come, please. I wanna come on your fingers. I need it.”

Of course, your newfound lover makes it a point to laugh at your desperate plea, licking his lips as he draws tight circles around your sensitive nub. “Just a few moments ago, you were afraid of being caught getting off like this. Now you want me to make you come?”

You nod vigorously—uncaring for how pathetic it would make you seem. “Yes, I want you so much… You’ll give it to me, won’t you?”

Ah, he’s always known you were a vixen. Those days when you’d purposely dress up wearing the skimpiest outfits just to get his attention were one of the hardest. In fact, the entire ordeal of keeping his hands off you when you were offering yourself up so willingly was one of the hardest things he’s done in his life. 

But Jeonghan supposes that he can still reap the benefits of his patience—even if that patience was snapped in two when you dared to think another man deserved to have you.

“Of course I’ll give it to you, sweetheart,” he murmurs sweetly before planting the sloppiest kiss on your lips. “Come for me if you want my cock in you. You can do that, right?”

You screw your eyes shut at his affirmation to focus on getting yourself to the pinnacle of gratification. Jeonghan has slowed the pace of the fingers thrusting in and out of your messy cunt and decided to zero in on your clit. You’re twitching and thrashing in his grasp, moaning his name so prettily, he wishes he could snap a photo to preserve the memory for life.

You come undone on his fingers with a breathless sigh, nearly collapsing on top of the counter from how boneless you felt in the aftermath. But Jeonghan is quick to coil an arm around your waist, peppering your face with kisses as he keeps himself from grinning too wide.

“So good for me. So perfect—my perfect fucking girl.” 

The lasciviousness dripping from his words urges you to spread your thighs for him—eyes glazed over with lust as he undoes the zipper of his trousers. You have to keep yourself from gasping once he takes out his impressive length—fully engorged with how much you’ve been teasing each other over the past half hour. 

Jeonghan fists his cock before sliding the head across your oversensitive clit, but you don’t voice out any complaints—already desperate to have him again despite having just recovered from your last orgasm. 

He doesn’t wait for a verbal confirmation, doesn’t waste his time on any more preamble. Jeonghan simply hooks your thighs around his elbows and sinks his cock into your tight channel with his bottom lip caged between his teeth. You’re a lot less reserved with the noises you make—openly crying out his name once he buries himself to the hilt. 

You feel him everywhere—inside you, on your skin, on your face, in your heart. Jeonghan is heaving deeply as he lets you get used to him and when he flashes you that lazy smile that started everything, your chest seizes with something not shy of glee. 

You have him. You finally have him.

And from the way that smile you’ve always loved morphs into a smirk, you have a feeling he’ll make sure you engrave this moment into your mind.

“We could’ve done this sooner,” Jeonghan sighs with the first drag of his hips, loving the way you writhe underneath him when he plunges his cock back into your slick heat. “If only we just got together like normal people, I could’ve fucked you on every surface of this store years ago.”

“If only you didn’t reject me every single time like some self-absorbed brat.”

“You sound pretty brave for someone who’s already in tears on my cock, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jeonghan murmurs something along the lines of cheeky little thing before surrendering his grip on one of your thighs in exchange for the space to reach for your face. There, he wipes the moisture collecting in the corner of your eye with his thumb, a self-satisfied look settling on his face.

Jeonghan murmurs something along the lines of cheeky little thing before surrendering his grip on one of your thighs in exchange for the space to reach for your face. There, he wipes the moisture collecting in the corner of your eye with his thumb, a self-satisfied look settling on his face.

“Maybe you do now.”

He doesn’t waste anymore time after that—fully aware that though he’s already drawn the shutters before you came, he hasn’t had the opportunity to lock the main entrance yet. The possibility of someone walking in on you getting fucked to an inch of your life on the countertop are all too real and Jeonghan has no plans on getting arrested for public indecency when he just grew the balls to tell you how he’s felt all this time.

“You’re fucking dripping for me,” your lover rasps into your neck, leaving a trail of love bites in his wake as your poor cunt takes a beating. “All dressed up for someone else but here you are stuffed full of my cock. Tell me, who is it that you really want?”

“You.” The mewl that follows your abrupt answer is music to his ears. “I’ve only ever wanted you, Hannie. F-Fuck! Right there, please.”

He drags your hips closer to the edge, resuming a secure grip on your thighs to keep you balanced as he rams his thick cock into you. You throw your head back in bliss, uncaring for how the bruises he’s kissed into your skin sting with pain. The pleasure he’s sowing between your legs eclipses any sort of ache that can deter you from losing yourself in the moment.

You hook your legs around Jeonghan’s waist to keep him close—arms slung around his neck as you pull him down for a kiss. Your lover responds in kind, moving his mouth in perfect sync with yours as if to make up for all the years you could’ve spent in each other’s arms. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs against your lips, eyes burning with pure, unadulterated desire. “So pretty and perfect for me.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re balls deep inside me,” you try to scoff but it melts into another breathless moan when Jeonghan angles his hips just a bit differently and has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“You talk big for someone who can’t handle being a little roughed up,” he teases. “Now hush and take my cock like the good girl you are.”

It doesn’t take long for you to feel that familiar pressure in the pit of your stomach—like a balloon expanding and expanding until you’re filled to the brim with the pleasure he’s giving you on a silver platter. You whimper beneath him, pressing your mouth against the cut of his jaw as you murmur about how close you are.

“Fuck, I need you to feel you come around me, sweetheart,” he moans. “Come on my cock—let me feel your cunt squeezing it out of me.”

You don’t know if you’re just that high strung, or if you’ve waited for this for so long, your body just responds to his whims. But whatever the reason, the most skin-tingling, toe-curling orgasm washes over you like a storm surge—pure lightning skidding up the length of your spine as you surrender yourself to the height of euphoria. 

“That’s it,” Jeonghan goads, fucking you through your orgasm as he chases after his own. “You feel so good around me, my perfect Y/N.”

As you drift in and out of coherence, you vaguely pick up on the fact that Jeonghan isn’t wearing any protection—the two of you overcome by your need to have each other to think things through. But as his cock plunges over and over into your soiled cunt, you find yourself uncaring for the consequences of your recklessness.

But Jeonghan continues to surprise you by using all his strength to disentangle your legs around his waist—pulling out just in time for those spurts of cum to splatter all over your rumpled skirt. He hisses between his teeth as he pumps his cock into completion, his white hot release staining your clothes in a way that you’ll probably still forgive him for with how well he fucked you tonight. 

"Can't get you pregnant when your career's ahead of you," he chuckles and you can only punch him in the chest in response.

The silence that settles moments after is more deafening than it should be, but you’re no means unsettled by it.

Not when Jeonghan still has that look in his eyes.

When he kisses you again, it feels like the stars and the planets have aligned for everything to fall into place. He smiles against your lips as if he’s just as relieved to have found you when you thought all hope was lost and it makes you recall any other time you’ve been more in love with someone else in your life.

In the end, you come up empty handed.

“I’ll clean you up and close up the store,” Jeonghan murmurs. “I need to take you home with me because I am nowhere near done with you.”

And who are you to say no to that?

“Paris, huh?”

Jeonghan muses right after he’s finished cleaning you up—diligently scrubbing at what three more rounds of sex at his apartment have done to your poor body. You answer him with a quiet hum, burrowing deeper into both the warmth of his blankets and the heat of his chest.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be stationed there for a better part of the year,” you tell him softly, tracing the small trail of freckles on his sternum. “It’s going to be way different than what I’m used to, but new experiences are always welcome.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, you don’t have any reason to be afraid of Paris to begin with. The only thing that might get in the way of you having a good time is the language barrier.”

“You talk like you’ve been there before.”

“Been there before? Sweetheart, I lived in Paris before I moved here… Why are you looking at me like that?”

You mutter a string of curses under your breath before pouting at him. “I keep forgetting that you and Joshua are a couple of trust fund babies. Of course I’d be surprised if you dropped a bomb like that.”

Jeonghan chuckles before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss—deepening it until you’re hooking your thigh across his hip and moaning into his mouth again. Your lover chuckles at your eagerness before he pulls away, a string of saliva obscenely connecting your lips. 

“I do kind of miss it there,” he admits sincerely, but you can’t pay the admission much mind when his fingers are trailing the inside of your thighs again. “Maybe I should go on a quick getaway for a while.”

“What, so you can go fuck me in Paris, too?”

You do your best to bite down your whimpers when he lathers his fingers with the wetness between your thighs, making it a point to rub your still sensitive clit in slow, lazy circles. The vibrations of Jeonghan’s laughter travel across your skin and when he presses a kiss on the corner of your lips, you’re not sure how to feel—endeared by the sweet gesture or embarrassed by how quickly he’s winding you up.

It doesn’t take long for his cock to be in full hardness again and you don’t even resist him when Jeonghan eases his length back into your tight hole. He sighs against the crook of your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth as he slides inside you languidly. When your hips are flush together as he bottoms out, your chest swells with pride when you hear him breathe out a shuddering sigh.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Can’t believe I waited for so long to have you like this.”

“Now if only you said yes the first time I asked you to sleep with me,” you chuckle, trying not to moan at the feeling of his cock pulsating inside you. “You could’ve railed me in the bathroom of Cheol’s disco and he never would’ve known.”

“Oh, he’d definitely know,” Jeonghan chuckles dryly as he presses a kiss along your jaw. “But thanks for the visual, I think I just got even harder. We should do that when you get back.”

“Didn’t you say something about going on a quick getaway so you can fuck me in Paris, too?”

“You’re the one making plans here, sweetheart. Not me. But if you’re so hell-bent on taking my cock in the bathroom of some random Parisian disco instead, then I suppose I can make the proper arrangements,” your lover appeases you with a lazy smile. “Maybe I’ll have Jihoon and your friends watch after the store while I’m gone.”

“He might be your regular, but when he finds out that we’re screwing around, he’ll probably torch the entire building.”

Jeonghan pauses for a second. “That reminds me, won’t they be looking for you, sweetheart? From the way you were dressed earlier, it looked like you were headed somewhere else after buying that stupid badboy his birthday present. This is quite the detour, don’t you think?”

When Jeonghan brings it up, it takes you a few seconds to process that…fuck.

“Yeah…” you groan. “I was headed to the disco for Jungkook’s surprise party.”

He hums. “And here you are warming my cock. That boyfriend of yours is going to be heartbroken, you know?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you grumble, mewling when Jeonghan snaps his hips into yours to take you by surprise. “But…I guess it still sucks that I lead him on like that.”

“I suggest,” Jeonghan starts before pulling himself back again only to rut into you so hard, you’re surging forward on the bed. “That you give him a call in the morning—tell him that you’re fine and nothing’s happened to you. Oh, and tell him that you actually have a boyfriend now.”

Despite your senses being overloaded by how good his cock is stretching you mid-conversation, you still manage to look up at Jeonghan with withering surprise. “I do?”

“Sweet girl’s gone dumb on my cock, huh?” Jeonghan laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has you melting from the contact. “From here on out, I’m your boyfriend. Some fucker from another city has no business flirting with you when you’re with me.”

In a split second of clarity, you roll your eyes at him. “I still think it’s stupid that you only went after me after I found someone else. You’re a terrible person.”

“But you still love me anyway, hm?”

You do. You think you’ve loved Jeonghan even longer than you first realized it. 

Loving him and losing him even if you had neither to love nor lose is a vicious pattern you’ve cycled through for the past four summers. You’re perfectly aware that actions have consequences and what you chose to do with Jeonghan now would definitely jeopardize everything you’ve built for yourself. 

But you can think about what Jihoon and Jungkook and Seungkwan and everyone else has to say about this some other time. 

For now, you’re just going to focus on how good your boyfriend splits you open on his cock.

“And how are you so sure about that?”

Jeonghan shrugs before crowding you against the bed, a no-good smirk plastered on his pretty face. It gives you hope that maybe—just maybe—the cycle has finally been broken.

“I dunno. Gut feeling.”

⟢ end notes: you're finally at the end of it! thank you so much for reading through this brain fart that has been decaying in my drive since july :') i'd also like to extend my thanks to jj, rj and zeta specifically because if it weren't for them i would've lost every and all direction for this fic altogether and i might've actually dropped out of the collab for real (i am literally 4 going 5 days late!!) leave a like, reblog with your thoughts, or yell at me in the replies -- idk !! it's just that this might be one of the last fics you'll read from me for a while, so i'd appreciate the feedback now more than ever T T that said, do check out everyone's works from the collab as well!! they've all created such wonderful stories with the given theme <3 you def won't regret it!

this is part of the svthub 70s;teen collab!

[kabr0ztrousers]

Prompt idea,

Fem reader gets kidnapped or makes a deal with a demon queen/succubus, gets used as a toy for the demons huge gorgeous girlcock and learns to love it

Love your writing btw❤️

Kabr0z Writes episode 124: Dommy Mommy Demon

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

Kabr0z Writes on AO3!

CWs: Noncon; bondage; predicament torture; inhuman anatomy; Dom/sub dynamic; big power imbalance; probably more

A/N: This kinda changed a little in my head from demoness cock worship to dommy mommy demon lady, but there's just *so many* requests for similar things that I'm a little happier to take some liberties 😁

Having said that, if you want to see more demons getting up to shenanigans, do send those requests in. They're always fun to write about

#########################################

Honestly, you should've seen this coming. You thought yourself so clever when you summoned her. Double checking your sigils and rituals, making sure every candle was perfectly positioned, even doubling up on binding spells to keep her in place while the deal was struck. The summoning spell was perfect on a technical level. The only problem was, you're an idiot. What were you thinking, challenging a millenia-old demoness to a game of chess. Of all the games. You realised how fucked you were when she pulled out her own board and clock. Twenty minutes of being toyed with by a vastly superior opponent later, and your freedom was forfeit.

You stood in her dungeon. Although, stood is maybe the wrong word. Your ankles were chained together, either side of a long iron pole that stood vertically, poised against your cunt, keeping you on your toes. Every time you relaxed, even for a moment, the bulbous tip threatened to enter you.

Your calves burned. You couldn't rest. Tormenting demons danced around you with long feathers, tickling the soles of your feet or any other part of your exposed body. You were trapped here, in one of Hieronymus Bosch's nightmares. Restrained in place, plagued by masked imps wielding implements of torture.

A door opened behind you. The masked creatures backed away, cringing from the light. Footsteps came from the door, the sound almost masked by the gibbering genuflection of the minions who until so recently were gleefully tormenting you. A hand flattened on your back. The strength left your legs.

Your weight rested on the end of the bar. A ball of black iron pressing against your slit as you struggled to hold yourself up. You could barely move your limbs, unable to take any weight. A voice whispered in your ear "Would you like to be free?"

You nodded

"Do you submit to me?"

You nodded again.

A flash of light. You were somewhere else. Gone were the sounds of the gibbering devils. Gone was the smell of hot iron. Gone was the cold draft across your skin. Gone was the accursed bar between your legs. You opened your eyes a crack. You were in a bedchamber. Tapestries covered the walls, tall windows letting in the dull orange light. You were still nude, but were at least comfortable. The aching in your legs dissipating as you sank into the mattress you were sat on.

A set of long, slender claws brushed your side. You shivered with the feeling of the razor-sharp points barely touching you.

"Are you ready to be a good girl for me?" That voice again. The demoness who'd brought you here and trapped you in that stinking dungeon. Countess Mezsie. Lady of the Profaned Saint, heir to the Seven Sigils of Uryn, harbinger of the Order of the Icosahedron. And apparently somewhere around 3000 ELO rated.

She'd changed how she looks since you summoned her. Tall and curvy, like the Amazons of legend. Her skin was chrome, reflective and shining. Golden filigree danced over her skin, picking out her hips, her waist, her collarbones, intricate patterns drawing the eye to her swaying breasts and her sheath. Her face lacked a nose or eyes, a shining absence of features above a wide, grinning mouth lined with sharp golden teeth. Her hair was golden wire twisted into a circlet that rested above her brow.

You swallowed hard. Her face betrayed no emotion, but you knew she was waiting for your answer, and that it would decide your fate.

"I'm ready, Countess"

Her grin widened, mouth opening a fraction more, showing you another four rows of those neat, triangular fangs. "Good choice, pet." She teased a golden hair from her head, working it in her hands to a long, slender chain which she fastened around your neck. It tightened slowly, link by link drawing up to your neck. The cold wire pressed into your skin. Not enough to hurt, but so much that it was impossible to ignore.

"Now, you're mine."

You echoed her sentiment "Yours"

"Good kitten. Now, open wide"

Your mouth opened on its own. You couldn't move it. She put her fingers into your mouth, the claws receding as she did, vanishing back to manicured curves as her index and middle fingers brushed the back of your throat. "Stay like that. No moving"

A gag built in your throat. The muscles wanting to flex, to expel the fingers, and maybe the contents of your stomach to boot. It didn't come. A trickle of drool made its way down your chin, dangling in a thin strand that refused to break. You sat. Stock still. You wanted to pull away from her, to run. Every time you tried your muscles refused to respond, and the chain cut a little deeper.

"Every time you want to disobey, it gets a little worse, pet." Mezsie whispered into your mind "Let yourself go. Give in, it's going to be much more pleasant"

Her other hand reached down, running up your thigh. Your legs opened instinctively, ignoring your desire to squeeze shut. Cold, metallic fingers brushed the lips of your cunt, which drooled obediently for them. You screwed your eyes shut, the one part of you still under your control as your tongue stuck out and your legs opened wide, welcoming Mezsie in.

You heard her stand, chromed footsteps on the woven carpet. A fingertip pushed into the centre of your forehead, toppling you back onto the bed. She lifted your legs, placing your feet on her shoulders as she lined herself up with you. You felt it touching you. It wasn't a cock like you'd known before, not just a rod to be thrust in. It moved against you, dexterously probing and investigating you. Your mouth hung limp, you closed it when you noticed.

"See? If you're not a naughty kitten, you get rewards"

Your hand strayed to the chain, it had loosened a touch. Still too tight to fit a finger underneath, but not cutting as hard as it was a minute ago.

She leant over you, pressing that unnatural tentacle-cock into you as she took your wrist and drew your hand from your neck down towards your cunt

"Now be a good girl and rub yourself for me"

Your hand started work. You're not sure if it was you doing it or not. You didn't want to stop. Your juices were already coating your hand, even though you were only rubbing at your clit. Her tip edged into you, rolling upwards as it entered, pressing and rubbing against your g-spot. You gasped at the sensation. Stretching and rubbing, already filling you while probing against the most sensitive parts of you.

Your mouth had opened again

Your fingers worked faster, your other hand grabbing one of your tits as you already approached your peak. She was only halfway in you when you started clenching around her, your cunt squeezing her prehensile cock as it messaged your insides. You let out tiny moans of anticipation, building in volume as she drove you onward.

She buried herself in you. The pulsing and gyrating of her unique anatomy sending you to your peak. She held you by your waist, fingers sinking into your soft skin as she held you to her, cock still rubbing at you even as she pressed her hips into yours. You could feel the tip prodding at your back walls, probing the entrance of your cervix as she watched for the reaction through your orgasm. She leant over you, her tits pressing onto yours as she kissed your lips. She tasted like licking a 9-volt battery, doused in petrol. You pushed up into her, returning the kiss on her cold, lipless mouth.

She pulled away slightly "Do you want my cum?"

You nodded desperately, you wanted it more than anything

"Use your words, pet"

"Please" Your voice was little more than a whisper "please"

The demon above you shuddered. She made a sound like an old diesel engine on a cold day. You felt her pulse inside you, thickening and hardening, the tip pressing into your cervix, making you moan with a mixture of pain and pleasure as the tapered end pushed past it. Her cum was strange. It felt hot and cold at the same time, filling you with a peculiar fizzing sensation as it spurted directly into you. You wriggled, the tickling buzzing making your cunt ache. She kept you held down, pumping ever more into you. It was leaking out, coating the inner walls of your cunt, spreading that tickling tingle. Your toes curled as your eyes rolled backwards, the stimulation making you twitch and clench, muscles flexing to try and get away.

Even after she'd pulled out the demon cum kept going. Your cunt throbbed. Every beat of your heart made it ache. She sat beside you, still semi-hard, pulling your head to her lap. You could see the long, tapered tendril she'd fucked you with. Flawless, mirror-sheen gold, leaking a translucent blueish slime. Your reached your head up and kissed the tip, mouth tingling as you tasted the bizarre cum.

You settled down and closed your eyes, feeling her stroke your hair and adjust the loose chain around your neck.

###############################################

This was really meant to be done last night, not at almost midday today 🤣 it'll either be followed tonight by another episode, or we'll have a couple of days in a row chalked up on the missed counter.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed it!

[ririglow]

just yours| d.lizewksi

summary: dave steps into a scene he isn’t familiar with and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

pairings: college dave! x fem reader

warnings: jealousy, insecurity, dave lizewski in general bc he literally makes me go ⭕️💢⭕️💢⭕️💢

a/n: I had this in my drafts for awhile now and i really don’t have any plans on finishing it but I wanted to share it with you guys <3 hope you like it

Dave Lizewski would rather fight crime in spandex than navigate a crowed party. Socializing has never been his strongest suit— unless you count his occasional Dungeons & Dragons session with his friends, where the biggest challenge is rolling a natural 20, not standing in a room full of loud, drunk strangers. Crowded spaces, flashing lights, and unfamiliar faces make him uneasy, but tonight, he’s here for one reason—his girlfriend. And while she thrives in this environment, Dave can’t help but feel like he’s completely out of place. Like he’s stepping into enemy territory, severely outnumbered.

The musics was just loud so much it’s vibrating through the floor as Dave follows close behind you, his hand grips yours tightly fearing you would just disappear right before his eyes. The house was packed—college students, red solo cups, a faint haze of smoke lingers in the air as well as the distinctive smell of marijuana. This wasn’t his scene, but it was yours, and a huge part of him wanted be the kind of boyfriend who could handle it.

Even if it was slowly killing him.

You looked absolutely stunning tonight—not that it was a surprise. You were always beautiful, but something about the way you carried yourself under the dim lighting made you downright mesmerizing. Your freshly done silk press flowed with every slight turn of your head, each strand catching the light like a halo around your face. The high-waisted jeans hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating every dip and slope of your body. And that crop top? It left just enough to the imagination, showcasing your smooth, radiant skin. But what really had Dave struggling to keep his eyes off you was the glint of your butterfly belly button piercing, the tiny jewel catching every flicker of light as you moved. You were effortlessly glowing, completely in your element, and he was utterly captivated.

Unfortunately for him he wasn’t the only one who had his eyes on you. Every time you moved, every time you laughed, someone’s eyes were on you. And some guys weren’t being so subtle about it.

Dave wasn’t naive. He knows what he’s got, a gorgeous girlfriend who’s magnetic, the kind of person people gravitate towards. He also knew he wasn’t exactly…the first guy someone would think to be your boyfriend, hell he couldn’t believe it either sometimes. Why on earth would you give a guy like him an ounce of attention he was awkward, shy, and plays with legos during his free time.

Which was why it burned when some guy—tall, cocky, and way too comfortable steps up to you leaning in close to your ear to whisper something, the guy smirk widening when he pulls back to see your reaction which was a small laugh.

Dave eyebrows furrowed. His stomach twisted.

He obviously couldn’t hear what was being said and to tell the truth he didn’t want to know. You responded to what the guy said placing a casual hand on his shoulder as an indicator of ending the brief conversation, you were completely oblivious to the way Dave was unraveling inside.

He wasn’t good at this. At being the confident, self assured boyfriend who shrugged things like this off. He hated the way his mind spiraled—telling him that he wasn’t good enough and that you deserve better. That maybe you were just biding your time before you realized it too.

Dave could feel himself almost throw up at the thought of losing you.

god why can’t my mind be normal? He thought taking a deep breath suddenly feeling overwhelmed, from the lights, the music, the tainted air and his jealousy thats burning him alive.

You turned away from the conversation with your friends to check in on Dave, you knew this wasn’t his scene and a part of you felt bad for dragging him to this party. Immediately when you catch his expression your face softens. “Baby, you okay?”

Dave swallows, forcing a nod. “Yeah. Just, uh….I think I need some air”

You frowned in concern taking in his flushed cheeks, his glasses slightly fogging due to the sweat that starts to drip down his forehead which his curls catch most of it all. Guilt immediately eats at you clearly your boyfriend wasn’t doing so well, you knew he hated everything about parties in general.

“C’mon we can go if you-“ You started to say, but he cuts you off.

“No! I’ll be fine, just gonna head out back,” Dave says quickly, feeling your friends eye him in way that made him feel like he was the biggest pest on the planet.

Before you can say anything else, he lets go of your hand and disappears towards the quieter side of the house.

Dave wasn’t so sure how long he stood outside, gripping the railing of the patio staring at the ground like it held all the answers to his self-worth crisis. He felt embarrassed, and ashamed about the way he was feeling. You brought him here so he could relax, have fun, and maybe even step out of his comfort zone for a little while—not to let his mind spiral into a web of insecurities and self-doubt. You wanted him to enjoy himself, to feel included, not to stand off to the side, overthinking every glance and interaction. This was supposed to be a night of new memories together, not one where he got lost in his own head, questioning whether he was enough.

He didn’t hear you approach until he felt a hand on his back, spun around facing you sheepishly. Fortunately you didn’t look mad or annoyed instead you look concerned which mad him feel even more bad. The last thing he want is for you to worry,

“Dave, you’re not okay.” You stated, and he internally winced you hardly ever call him by his name unless it was something serious. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

His mouth opens and closes as he stares at you, the words were caught in throat and he didn’t want to admit his jealousy. Your frown deepens and you step closer to him placing a hand on his cheek, his eyes briefly closes relishing your touch.

“I got little overwhelmed ” Dave mutters, his cheeks turning pink.

You squint your eyes at him, though that may be partly true it was something deeper than that and he could tell you knew he was only giving you half the truth.

Before you could say anything a surge of rowdy people came outside from in the house, you sighed deeply before taking his wrist tugging him towards the house muttering. “Come with me “

He let you lead him back inside, past the crowd, past the noise, up a flight of stairs until you pushed open a random bedroom and you pulled him in.

“Talk to me, baby” You said almost pleadingly while closing the door behind you.

Dave hesitated,fiddling his thumbs. He hated this part–being vulnerable, admitting the ugly, insecure thoughts that gnawed at him. But the way you stood there looking at him patient, and concerned with that cute pout made him crack.

“I just…” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I see all these guys looking at you, flirting with you and I–I don’t know. I feel like I don’t belong in the same world as you sometimes.”

A pang of sadness tightened in your chest as you watch him shrink into himself. How could he not see what you saw? That he’s your everything? You hated that he felt this way—that he thought, even for a second, that he wasn’t enough for you.

Your eye brows knitted together and then you took a step closer. “Baby,” you murmured, tilting your head to meet his gaze, as you cupped his face gently, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

“You are my world, I don’t care about the attention, the party , or those guys who mean nothing to me. You’re the only man I’ll ever have eyes for.”

Dave blinked, his lips parting slightly like he wanted to argue—but the words never came. Instead, his shoulders, once tensed, sagged under the weight of his emotions. He searched your face, as if he was trying to find some breakage reassurance, some grounds to doubt what you just said. But there was none.

His throat bobbled as he swallowed hard. You are my world. The words echoed in his mind, warm and unfamiliar, he’s never had a girl tell him that before. It felt nice, more than nice, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

“You really mean that?” His voice was quieter he would be surprised if you even heard him. He said it like he was ,unsure and afraid to believe it.

“Of course I do,” You smiled softly , pressed against him, fingers sliding under his hoodie to rest against his waist. The warmth of your touch sent a shiver down his spine.

His breath hitched as your fingers brushed against his skin, the warmth of your touch sparking a fire he couldn’t ignore. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead, then your cheek. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his hands trembling slightly as they found their way to your waist. His body was so close to yours now, but still there was a hesitance in his movements, like he wasn’t sure if he should take that next step.

You could feel your pulse racing, and with a small, knowing smile, you pulled him closer. “You do,” you murmured, “and I’m going to show you just how much.”

Your eyes darken with a mix of excitement and desire, the hand that was fiddling with his waist was now pushing him back guiding him towards the bed.

[mxauthor]

Beginning of More

Summary: Two best friends in a dungeon. They might kiss.

Word Count: 2,236

Warnings: fluff, secret mutual pining, brief mention of dead husband, mention of kids, Chilchuck and Reader being besties, sneak peak into matchmaker Marcille

A/N: I was thinking of making this into a little mini series or adding the other parts to this draft when I have them. Let me know what you think and enjoy! Edited and Proofread

Y/n and Chilchuck have been best friends since forever.  

Having grown up in the same village, the two of them spent most of their time together while they were young. Moreover as they grew older, so did their friendship; they had been the best man/maid of honor at each other's wedding, first ones there after the birth of their children and became the god parents to said children. They moved away from home and started the half-foot union together and began adventuring. It was very unusual for adventuring parties to get one without the other.

The two were thick as thieves. Always there for each other. 

So when Chilchuck had been introduced to Laios’ forming party, it was no surprise when Y/n also signed a contract with them as well. Starting together and ending together, that is the way both half-foots worked. Always going where the other leads. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcille’s favorite genre of books are romance. Where a princess gets swept off her feet by a prince and they fall madly in love. Or when two people are forced to go on an adventure together only to realize that they began to fall in love during the journey. She couldn’t get enough of them, which had caused her to strongly lightly project onto others, specifically the two half-foot party members that seem to be insanely close with one another. 

It wasn’t hard to see the natural pull the two of them had with each other, or the instinct of making sure that one is safe after a battle with a monster within the dungeon. Marcille would catch glimpses of the two of them leaving when it came to getting water or heading off to the bathroom. Just always making sure the other is safe. 

She knew they were friends beforehand, it wasn't hard to keep track of the infamous half-foot duo despite her not being the most well kept with rumors. She knew that they have history before forming the party. So as she watches them now, after deciding to go and rescue Falin, she knew it was much deeper than just friendship. 

Marcille’s main focus is rescuing Falin; but if she said getting the two together wasn’t a separate focus on its own, then she’d be lying to herself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chilchuck sat irritably on his bed roll, gaze locked onto the door for night watch. After spotting the mimic in the room over he knew something was going to happen. Mimics have never brought them luck before and it sure as hell wasn’t going to bring them luck now. 

With an irritated huff, Chilchuck felt his stomach growl with hunger. “My stomach’s gone soft on me. I used to go two days without eating.” He reached for his water skin only to find it empty. Chilchuck huffed to himself, before instinctively reaching for Y/n’s water skin, knowing she wouldn’t mind. He lifted it up to drink but only a few drops came out, “We need more water.”

He rose to his feet with the water skins in hand. He turned towards Y/n, calling out her name. She groaned lightly, only shifting in the direction of his voice, Chilchuck huffed before reaching over and shaking her. Y/n groaned at the forced movement of her body. She turned her head, inhaling and exhaling deeply before speaking, “What is it hun’?” 

Her words came out muffled and they were laced with sleep but it still rang loud and clear in Chilchuck’s ears. The softness of her voice and the endearing name was enough to make his face blush red. He’s heard her call her late husband that or her kids or even his kids, but never has it been directed towards him and not once did he feel like it needed to be, but his heart still fluttered; his face still flushed. Chilchuck stumbled over his words, “I-I’m going to get some more water.” It was only a simple sentence and yet it was still hard to get out, her half lid eyes seemed to be drawing him in. Almost like she wanted him to stay. 

“Want me to come?” Y/n asked, lifting herself onto her elbows. Sleep clinging to her eyes. Chilchuck watched as she tried to fight it, but it looked like she was going to lose. 

“Nah, I’ll be alright. It’s only in the next room.” He reassured her, he stood to complete his task. As he lifted himself, Chilchuck gently nudged her head with his hand, giving the indication for her to lay back down, “I’ll be back. Go to sleep.” 

“Yell if you need, I’ll hear.” She replied, before allowing his nudge to force her to lay back down. Chilchuck watched as her breathing went even. He stepped out of the room, a single thought on his mind. 

“She looked really pretty.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Golly!” 

Y/n shot up from her bed roll; the sound of a voice waking her from her sleep. She scanned the room only to find Chilchuck still gone. Panic swelled, causing Y/n to quickly make her way towards the door. In her haste, she disturbed Marcille causing her to wake. Marcille only had a moment to watch Y/n swing open the door to their makeshift room and take down the hall. The elven woman then looked around the room and noticed the missing Chilchuck. She quickly sprung up from her bed roll and woke up Laios to come and help. Y/n heard the loud thump of a box hitting the ground behind her. She spun on her feet and saw the previously opened room was locked with bars. She rushed to the door trying to find a way to unlock it from the outside, standing in front of the bars Y/n saw as Chilchuck pressed the last brick before the gate opened itself. 

In his panic, Chilchuck didn’t register that Y/n was standing right in front of him nor did he slow his pace when he ran straight for her. Before Chilchuck could fully collide with Y/n, she quickly pulled the man into her once he was within reach, providing him a wider gap between the mimic and himself. Y/n watched as the metal bars slammed down onto the mimic's body, killing it. Y/n held tightly to the panting Chilchuck, just relieved that he was okay. She pulled back to assess him of any major damage, only to see the slight gash on his cheek. 

“I told you to yell if you needed help.” she rushed out in false anger, seeing his new scar.

“I had it under control.” Chilchuck laughed, knowing if he was patient enough, Y/n would’ve come running. Y/n smiled warmly even her false anger dispelled, she knew that he would figure out a trap like that in no time. 

The door to the room opened to reveal a sleepy Laios being dragged out by Marcille, her panicked expression matching the one Y/n had on seconds before, “I saw her run out like something was wrong! And Chilchuck isn’t in the room! He must be in trouble!” The small group looked over and saw the two half-foots conversing, Y/n taking off the pouch on her leg to reveal a couple of needles and thread, Chilchuck following suit.

Laios and Senshi stared at the dead mimic on the ground. “Whoa! You bagged a mimic! Nice going!” 

Chilchuck groaned, sitting back as Marcille gave him a once over with her healing magic. “Thank you.” 

Y/n shook her head in disbelief before assessing his green neck warmer. Seeing how much she can sew right now, before having to add more fabric to it. “I can sew most of it, but I’ll have to add some of the spare fabric I have.” 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” Chilchuck commented, happy he could keep it for one more day. Seeing his happy smile caused Y/n to share a smile of her own, his relaxed nature making her heart flutter. Knowing he was only this level of relaxed with the two of them, their small bubble yet to pop even with the rest of the party around them. Even with the small trickle of blood on his face, Y/n couldn’t stop the thought that passed through her head. 

“He looks so pretty.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcille silently observed the interaction between the two half-feet. She always had a leading suspicion that they held some sort of feelings for each other, but seeing the way they’re acting almost like it was only the two of them within the dungeon, Marcille knew it wasn't her imagination. 

She could see that the two of them held the other close to their hearts, but seeing how close would be the fun part. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n watched as everyone settled around, ready to eat the dinner provided for them. She was a couple stitches away before Chilchuck’s neck warmer was finished. Which was about the time everyone's portions began to be served. Chilchuck sat next to her, holding the other end of the neck warmer so she could sew it more easily. 

Marcille continued to munch on her piece of the mimic before turning towards the duo, questioning them. “If you knew the mimic was in there, why didn’t you tell us?” 

“Because I’ve had nothing but bad experiences with them. The last thing I wanted to do is deal with another one.” Chilchuck grumbled. He flicked his gaze towards Y/n only to see she had finished mending the fabric and was folding it up to place it next to his pillow. “Anyways, I made a lot of bad decisions.” 

Y/n hummed in agreement, eating a piece of mimic as Chilchuck continued to talk. “The first was panicking thinking the mimic would eat the treasure insect.” 

“But mimics don’t eat treasure insects. Treasure insects eat mimics.” Laios announced. His small explanation going over the irritated Chilchuck’s and the amused Y/n’s head. Chilchuck grumbled as Marcille tried to pat his head, only for Y/n to slap her hand away. 

“You know he doesn’t like to be coddled.” She said simply. “It makes him feel like a kid.” She finished her plate of food and placed it down for it to be washed later. Marcille ignored her  words and turned her attention towards Chilchuck. 

“Tell me how old you are and I’ll never do it again.” Marcille compromised, “what happened to you today only happened because you wanted to be so secretive. Now come on and tell me how old you are.” 

“Fine.” He grumbled. Hoping she’ll keep her word. Marcille’s eyes sparkled, before turning towards Y/n. Her face held an expecting look, almost like she was waiting for her to share the same details.

“What? You never asked my age. I would’ve told you if you just asked.” Y/n answers simply. It was true. She never hid anything about herself, like Chilchuck did. Just no one was interested enough to ask, or they didn’t think to ask since Chilchuck always refused to share anything and everyone always assumed that she was the same way. 

“I’m turning 29 this year.” Chilchuck grumbled out, seeing Marcille’s eyes land on him expectantly. 

She groaned at the information, expecting to hear an age older than the one she got. “Man you’re just a kid after all.” 

“I thought you were way older than that.” Senshi said. Y/n laughed at their reactions, knowing that other races don’t fully understand half-feet life expectancy. Especially races with longer lives. 

Marcille watched Y/n chuckle at the scene in front of her, before lighting up, “What about you Y/n? How old are you?” Marcille asked. Excited that she’ll get the answers to some of her questions. 

“Me? I’m 30.” Y/n answered casually. Watching Marcille’s excitement withered slightly. 

“Really? You guys are so young.” Marcille huffed, leaning back onto her hands looking at the ceiling. 

“Okay then! How old are you guys! All other races look like kids to you ‘races with long lives’!!” Chilchuck shouted. Y/n laughed at Chilchuck’s faux anger. Knowing he was more irritated than actually upset. 

“There, there, Chil, those lifers will never understand our day to day struggle.” Y/n joked, watching as Chilchuck fumed silently sitting down and crossing his arms. She thought that steam was going to pour out of his ears. “Come on guys, we should rest a little more before we start moving again. Especially since not everyone got a chance to sleep.” 

Marcille watched closely as Chilchuck’s body seemed to instantly relax once Y/n began patting his shoulder and how Y/n’s touch lingered for a second more before she moved and began reassembling her bed roll closer to the new circle the group had formed. 

The party grumbled in agreement before dimming down the fire and getting back into their bed rolls. Most fell back to sleep almost instantly. Y/n turned over, now face to face with Chilchuck. She reached out slightly and tapped his arm with her fist. Not enough to hurt, but enough to convey her displeasure with him, “Don’t go anywhere without me next time, got it?” 

“Yeah I got it.” Chilchuck replied, tapping her arm in return. They two adults shared a smile before dozing off. Resting until they woke up naturally to continue moving down.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Some History of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy

Brandon and I have played a lot of TTRPGs, from nearly every edition of Dungeons & Dragons to half-finished playtests of things you’ve never heard of. Our history with TTRPGs is a love story, but one pockmarked with frustration. We found ourselves enjoying D&D 3.5’s vast character creation options, but wishing it focused more on  grounded characters and historically informed combat; being drawn in by Call of Cthulhu’s horror and existential dread, but disappointed in its investigation mechanics for actually getting the investigators to those moments of horrifying revelation; being intrigued by Monster of the Week’s juxtaposition of both normal and supernatural PCs (for horror and/or comedy), but finding its lack of character options and reliance on genre tropes a hindrance; being unable to find anything that would be good for a S.T.A.L.K.E.R. inspired TTRPG campaign. We eventually found the OSR movement and AD&D1e and 2e to be far closer to what we wanted on the medieval fantasy front, but we still had nothing on the modern horror or urban fantasy front, and Shadowrun is… Shadowrun.

So, with around 20 years of TTRPG experience between us, we set out to make the game we wanted a reality.

The story of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy’s creation really starts in late 2021, when Brandon asked me to help playtest a very early rough draft of an investigative horror game he thought up. Living isolated, impoverished, and unable to find work in England at the time, I readily agreed. Noticing that the game didn’t have a combat system and desperate to set my mind to something constructive in between tedious job applications, I offered to write a combat system for it. I soon had to use the last of my money to move back home to Louisiana where I eventually did find work despite a variety of health issues, and continued to work on Eureka as a system for our personal use.

As 2023 drew near, it became clear that my current job wasn’t going to be a permanent career, and I needed a fall back plan. Work towards making Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy a professional release began in earnest, with Brandon and I founding A.N.I.M. a few months later. It was initially set to go to Kickstarter in April of 2023, then May, then June, but each time we realized it just wasn’t ready. No one had ever heard of us, and we wanted to break into an industry and customer base increasingly financially hostile to any TTRPG that wasn’t D&D5e compatible. We needed to build an audience, and build a greater appreciation for independent and small-budget TTRPGs within the community at large.

Thanks to some assistance from one of the team members from Tuesday Knight Games (makers of Motherhship), the first beta copies went public in September of 2023 to a splash of instant (relative) success, and the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club was founded on Discord two months later, a community dedicated to buying, playing, and analyzing less well-known TTRPGs - which includes almost everything except Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition.

Ash became friends with us through the book club, and after offering an increasing amount of assistance, joined the team proper in January of 2024, adding much needed copy-editing skills as well as another 15 years cumulative TTRPG experience.

The Kickstarter campaign for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy launched on April 10th, 2024, was fully funded within 3 hours, and by the end of the campaign had reached a total of $15,455, 486% of the goal. That is where we are at now, working every day to put the finishing touches on the game and complete the stretch goals to the best of our ability before our tentative deadline of January 2025.

This is a far more ambitious project than a super-small team like ours should have attempted for our debut game, but with a mix of talent, luck, skill, and a whole lot of help, we have somehow managed to pull it off. We think the resulting game is a deep, robust, professional-quality TTRPG that provides a one-stop shop and extensive toolbox for any investigative or mystery game you’d like to run. A dark and moody noir, a classical British whodunnit, the lighthearted sleuthing hijinks of Scooby-Doo, Eureka does it all.  (You can also get the latest PDF for FREE for a limited time by joining the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club!)

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but our Kickstarter page is still the best place to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, and where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more than just status updates, going forward you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and it’s adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

[centrally-unplanned]

Time for a pet peeve take response - let me capture our target below:

[Unpopular Fantasy Opinion Take:] The fantasy genre by-and-large took the wrong takeaway from Tolkien, and has been generally spiraling since as a result. They took his surface-level aesthetics and fantastical elements, and left his engagement with real, historical texts, his philology & his moral seriosity. In a different timeline, subsequent authors would have adopted Tolkien's erudite love of language and mythology and applied it to other cultures & mythologies - not just superficially, but by engaging with the great Chinese novels or the Shahnameh like he did with Beowulf. Even when you *do* see more recent novels "inspired by" other cultures, they are very blatantly just taking the (degraded distillate of the) Western, Tolkien-esque tradition and coating it in a thin veneer of Chinese or Mesoamerican lore.

This is not the first time I have seen this specific take, and it is part of a "fallen literature" genre that is always confusing supply & demand, with a hefty bout of selection bias for good measure.

To get the obvious out of the way, the "lessons" people took from Tolkien are entirely what audiences want to read, and were never going to be any other way. Most people don't wanna read hard, heavy books! Even if they want that sometimes, for every one Gravity's Rainbow they are gonna read a dozen Gone Girl's as a palette-cleansing snack, which means by-the-numbers the latter will dominate. Fantasy did not invent the genre of adventure stories and swashbuckling heroes and hot maidens to woo and mystical mumbo-jumbo; people stapling tried-and-true genre tropes onto elves and orcs once they took off was a given. The "shallow" part was the only part that could have changed; a world where the median fantasy novel is dealing with theological issues could never have been.

And to top this all off, no disrespect to Tolkien at all, but like...he isn't that deep? The "moral seriousness" of the Lord of the Rings is very simple - characters are often cartoonishly evil or blatantly good, the conflicts they face are often black and white, and in particular the moral dilemmas faced by characters boil down to tests of courage more than half the time. What Tolkien does have is his own unique interests? Like in Middle Earth the "act of creation", from art to life, is itself a moral undertaking with metaphysical implications. This is super cool - but it is also again very simple, it is barely even discussed in the novels and his ideas can be summarized in a paragraph. This is all good btw! The novels would not benefit from more complicated morality. But modern books are just as complex, and often more so.

Actually just a little aside here - a lot of people do this thing with Tolkien where they mention his letters and drafts like that is canonical story text? Yeah he wrote like an essay about the theological implications of the various orc origin stories, but he didn't publish that, it is nowhere in the Lord of the Rings and is barely in the Silmarillion. Other authors have notes like those; you just don't read them.

And the "other cultures" stuff is particularly egregious - I'm sorry, are we just not reading many modern stories? You think Spinning Silver isn't pulling great threads from Slavic folklore? You think the Chinese Gays in Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed aren't dropping refs to Daoism and the four classics in between their will-they-won't-they necromancy shenanigans? In response this author would, of course, pivot from their bailey of "no one references other traditions" to the motte of "and if they do it is shallow" with no definition of what qualifies as such, nor again any admittance that audiences care way more about getting the gays than the deep cut cultural refs. The fact that the median person in the west prefers their Dungeons & Dragons campaigns in a default Tolkien-esque setting because the point is to have a comfortable backdrop for ease of play of a combat dice game will just not factor into their analysis.

The elephant in the room for all of this is that foundational texts differ, structurally, from modern texts, because they were made in different environments. The Lord of the Rings probably wouldn't sell well today! The prose is wooden, the characters are flat, it throws random lore it never explains at you, Tom Bombadil is just there as a walking momentum-destroying plot hole, etc. People read it because it was a first in a world that didn't have books committing to this level of world-building & detail in a fantasy environment. And as a new genre, things like his crazy level of language building are appealing, it's all so new and different, something cool to dig into.

But imagine picking up your 185th elves-and-orcs sword & sorcery book in 1998 and reading "ah yes Quenya is just one of two alphabets for the Elven tongue and it is inspired by Finnish-Germanic and I write entire poems in it even though I never finished a cohesive dictionary or grammar system but I do have 15 pages of pronunciation notes"?? You would throw at it at a fucking wall, absolutely insufferable. It was cool the first time, and that is why you learn Elvish, just like you learn Klingon. That was never gonna keep as a zeitgeist - instead just popping up here or there as this or that series takes off.

You have to accept that audiences are in the driver's seat on this one - they have infinite stories to choose from, they are absolutely not being dragged along by willful writers. Which means genres will evolve and change over time - and that is fine.

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

I for one would love to see more of Locke and Keye! I love them already 🥺 they have my whole heart

Ooooh, hell yeah! I could use a small drabble to destress from a busy week.

*************************************

This wasn’t exactly the best dungeon you’ve been in. After the temple with built-in waterfalls, beautiful wisteria growing on the walls, and elegant statues of ancient goddesses, this was certainly a disappointment.

However, you’ve found that some of the best treasures have been found in the most unassuming places.

You walked down dark cavern after dark cavern, cold drops of water falling from glistening stalactites above you. The flame in your lantern shuddered, but stayed lit — thank the gods it hadn’t gone out yet. You weren’t sure if you could find your way back if it did.

Suddenly, to both your relief and fear, a quiet babbling of voices broke the oppressive silence. As you drew deeper into a particularly deep cave, the words started to become clear.

“And just whed I was feeling well! Koff!”

“‘S not by fault, Locke! Besides, you’re the first ode who cabe down with this cold - snf!”

“This cavern has a just dreadful draft! And all th-this water besides — adyone would catch a…a cah-! AKSH’SHIHIIIIEW!”

There was a loud rattling, then a groan.

“Oh, why couldn’d they let us guard sobething in a garden, or a sunny forest? Sobewhere warm…and bright…”

“If ifs were nduts, and candies were buhuh-HUH-! HIIIH’tchiew!”

“Oh, shud up, Keye. At least whed you sdeeze, it doesn’t shake you in your frame-”

“I — tchiew! HIH’tchiew! tchhhiew!”

“No wonder I caughd your cold, with how much you sdeeze.”

You were close now, pressed against one of the inner walls of the cave. You weren’t sure who was talking — they certainly didn’t sound like beasts, but they could be guarding the treasure.

But, with how they were sounding, you figured they wouldn’t put up much of a fight.

You peeked your head around the wall, trying to get a glimpse at the two sickly souls who had the misfortune of being stuck in this damp dungeon.

Instead of a pair of guards, or two unfortunate treasure hunters, all you could see was a two old wooden doors with very odd-looking door-knockers: a pair of silver noses, each sporting a septum ring with a dull gem fastened to each.

How odd…you could have sworn…

“Oh dear, with all your s-sdiveling, I feel l-like I bay…bay-! Oh-!”

The door on the left began to shake on its hinges, and to your surprise, the nostrils of the nose-knocker began to quiver and flare.

“H-hooh-! Hah-! HAH-!”

The door bent forward, as if some giant was pulling from the other side.

“AKSSHHH’HIEEEEEEEEW!”

The nose let out an enormous sneeze, making the door buckle under its force. Wind whistled through the cave, and even small pebbles raced across the ground. The flame in your lamp fluttered. The door on the right’s nostrils quivered sympathetically.

“Are you alrighd, Locke? Thad sounded lige a big ode.”

Only a shuddering groan and a sniffle in reply.

Your heart sank. You couldn’t imagine being built in such a depressing, gloomy place, especially for a treasure you could never see. And to have such a terrible cold while being wholly a nose? Even worse to imagine.

You had made up your mind to leave them be, when the tip of your shoe caught a piece of stone, making it skitter across the ground, the noise echoing loudly off the walls.

“W-Who’s there?” Locke rasped, still snuffling.

Keye tried to be more impressive. “Who dares cobe to the lair of the - koff! Koff koff!”

After a pause, you came forward. With a loud bang, a stone door covered what was once the only exit out of the room. Though the noses had no eyes you could see, you could feel them watching you intently.

After Keye had finished coughing, he tried to begin a spiel again.

“We are the Riddle Doors of the Deeb, holding untold treasures too large for the bortal mind to…too…snf!”

Keye paused, his nostrils flaring.

“…t-too large to…compreh-! Hend…!”

Locke began to make his own speech, his voice still hoarse.

“In order to gaid your freedom, and wealth beyond beasure, you mbust solve our r-riddle-!”

Locke’s nostrils also began to flare, and Keye, desperate to finish the monologue, continued between gasping hitches.

“O-Ode tells the…hih-!”

“And the other…HAH-!” Locke finished, his rust-rimmed nostrils twice their normal size.

The riddle was old, hardly worth finishing. However, you had a new problem now — you were looking down the sinuses of two powerful magical beings who were seconds from letting out just as strong sneezes. If one could cause the gale you had seen earlier, what were two of them capable of?

In a panic, you dropped to your stomach, flattening yourself against the damp ground just in time.

“AHKSHHH’IIIIIIIIEW!”

“HATCH’TCHIHIIIIIIEW! TSHIEW! TSHIIIEW!”

Their sneezes roared around you. The cave walls shook, pieces of rock crumbling and falling to the ground. You covered your head, waiting for the shaking to stop.

Finally, the rumbling subsided, replaced by groans and sniffles and coughing. You opened your eyes to see the pair of noses running yellow liquid down their rings, their nostrils drooping. Much to your relief, your blessed lamp still hadn’t gone out — your arm had wrapped around it in the kick of time.

“Mby dearest apologies, traveler,” Locke snuffled. “We aren’d exactly feeling up to sduff, I’b afraid.”

Keye wheezed in agreement.

“Perhabs you can return in a fordnight. Yes, a fordnight, surely…”

You thought for a moment, looking between the two sickly schnozes. Then, you took off your traveler’s pack, reaching deep inside it.

Finally, you find what you are looking for: a long, pale blue length of cloth. You had torn a piece of bedding during your first expedition, and though you had since replaced it, you never discarded the old one. Now, you at last had a use for it.

You tore the cloth down the middle, using the first half to dab at Locke’s leaking sinuses. You motioned for him to blow, and he did — with great gusto. The second piece you used for the same purpose, but with Keye. He blew with a squeaking honk, murmuring his thanks.

“Gods above, I cad breathe!” Locke exclaimed, still a bit congested. “Never have I been so happy to smell old moss and trodden water!”

Keye sniffed happily, wrinkling his bridge with the closest a nose could express of excitement.

“It’s like when I was first smited!” he said.

You lifted your lantern. You knew the answer to the riddle, and you certainly didn’t want to catch a cold yourself by staying here.

However, before you could speak, Locke interrupted.

“Now, hold on a moment! I believe we may offer something better than a few gold.”

You lowered your lantern. Your interest was piqued.

“We were built by several wizards, ones that enjoyed teasing mortals almost as much as they did money,” Keye explained. “We were instructed to guard their treasure, and if any trespassers discovered us, we’d give them a riddle.”

“Something quite easy,” Locke said. “Humans like to feel superior in their intellect. When they were correct, they would receive a few pieces of gold from the wizard’s store. But that often wasn’t enough for adventurers, so we would offer them another riddle, and another, making them more and more impossible for a mortal to solve on their own.”

“When they would eventually get one wrong,” Keye said, “their possessions would be added to the wizard’s treasure, and we would disappear to a new hiding place, leaving them with nothing.”

Locke scrunched his bridge. “Awful business, that. A particularly proud scholar almost starved to death here when she couldn’t find the answer she sought.”

“But now,” Keye said, “we can make things right.”

“If you come to us on the first night of every full and new moon,” Locke instructed, “and give us more heavenly relief, we shall give you treasure as repayment.”

“As long as you leave before you return, and you solve a single riddle,” Keye said, “we can give you twenty pieces of gold twice a month. And, occasionally, whatever else the wizards have gained from their tricks.”

Locke’s nostrils quivered. “And perhaps bring a blanket or two with you? It does get terribly cold at night.”

You thought it over. Forty gold a month was certainly not a treasure beyond human imagination, but it was enough to live quite comfortably. And to help two unfortunate magical objects while thwarting their oppressors?

You nodded, patting their frame in a sort of agreement.

“Oh, joyous day!” Locke cried. “An end to our misery!”

“And to the luck of those evil wizards,” Keye added.

You spoke the answer to the riddle — Keye was the lying one, though he did seem the most trustworthy of the two — and you gained this week’s gold.

As you left, you began thinking about some of your friends in the village above. You were sure the seamstress could make a few blankets for forty gold a month. And the blacksmith could build a furnace into the rock for that sum as well. In fact, you were sure that many people you knew could use forty gold a month.

Locke and Keye would certainly be surprised at the next full moon.

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 63

Who cares about everything happening? There's cleaning that needs doing!

The end of the dungeon is surprisingly mundane.

Marcille's hair style this time pulls all her hair to a ponytail but has two braids coming out as well. Ever since she made her familiars, Marcille hasn't integrated braids as much.

That's adorable. Kensuke is trying to pull Laios toward the house.

Please keep your Izutsumi's indoors to protect the local wildlife.

Are these magic mirrors? Is Thistle aware that the Winged Lion feeds on desires and Thistle smashed all these mirrors to keep from being aware of his own desires? Or are these regular mirrors and Thistle can't stand to look at what he's become?

The broken spot in that central mirror makes this shot more creepy since it causes Laios's reflection to not have a head. It's like a threat to any intruders.

But my first thought was that Thistle is short and probably could still see his reflection in that mirror.

At first, I thought Kui recycled the same drawing in these two panels, but now that I see them side-by-side, it's clear these are actually two different drawings. The "WAH!!!" might be the same though.

I spotted the grape woman painting and the painting of Delgal's wedding on the right wall.

This one painting got my attention.

The left person is definitely the puppet at the table and the right person looks like they're wearing Yaad's clothes. So I think this is Yaad and his parents. So the people at the table are the kingdom royals. Delgal's body is here, but Yaad's father is missing. Does that mean the person from chapter 1 wasn't actually Delgal?

The actual Living Painting chapter never got to show us how inherently creepy they can be. We saw the one painting and then the rest of the chapter was Laios trying to steal food from them.

This scene really shows what it feels like to be in a room with these things. The only thing missing is muted laughing or incomprehensible mumbling coming from the pictures.

Senshi was really absent during the first part of this chapter. This is page 9 of the chapter. There have been 59 panels up to this point. Senshi appeared in 4 of them, and we never see his reaction to anything in the house. It makes him seem indifferent to all this.

It would be funny to see the phoenix trying to enter the house. It's attempts to enter through the fireplace were so disastrous that it actually died and had to resurrect itself once it got in.

I bet while the party was investigating the house, the phoenix was crashing into every window it found until it decided to divebomb into the chimney, broke its neck on impact, and its corpse rolled down the chute and made all that noise.

This isn't the phoenix being majestic. This is the phoenix trying to pretend that embarrassing entrance didn't happen.

I can't tell if Laios is proud or surprised that his plan worked.

Just like Senshi was missing for the first 9 pages, Izutsumi was missing for the next 10 pages. She doesn't appear at all during the phoenix fight. Kui does a good job making sure everyone is involved in the story, but this chapter is a little awkward because everyone is gathered together in a small space so not seeing them is more noticeable.

Side note: At this point, I had to save this post to drafts and go to school. While waiting for my class to start, I was telling a classmate about Dungeon Meshi and it led to me thinking about some of the earlier chapters. Remember how Senshi wanted to investigate what oil was used in the hot oil trap in chapter 5? What if the oil was olive oil because Senshi desired something he could cook with and the dungeon delivered?

I love Laios's face here. He would be over the moon if you gifted him a feather bed made with basilisk and cockatrice feathers.

Lazy cat. And she waited for Laios to change out the sheets before sleeping on the bed too.

The magic over the Kingdom has kept it in a general state of preservation. The castle and the castle town look like people haven't lived there in a while, but they look more like they were in use until recently, like maybe everyone abandoned the town a year ago.

The interior of this one building actually looks like it's been abandoned for a long time. The exterior looks new, but the interior looks like a house that has been abandoned and been decaying for at least thirty years. And of course, that one plate shattered just by touching it.

This house is a microcosm of the castle and castle town. Thistle wanted to preserve the kingdom and on the outside, it still looks great. But when you go into it, it's clear that the kingdom is abandoned, disorganized, and slowly decaying.

I wish I got a good look at Izutsumi's plate. The trimmings for that confit had mushrooms so I want to see if she has any mushrooms in hers.

What's really wrong here is that Laios and Senshi draped Delgal's arms over their shoulders. They are completely unbothered by this arrangement.

Oh no.

back

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 4 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW: All hail severely traumatized Reader, Part 2 (or is it 3? 4??)

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

On quiet evenings, after closing the shop, you’d sit in the dim light with your butterflies swirling around you, thinking of him. Jinwoo had grown older in these passing years, but he was still in the shadow of what was yet to come, the trials he’d face, the burdens he’d bear. You’d send a butterfly to always be with him, only occasionally checking in on him, respecting his boundaries even if he didn’t know it.

Just for a moment—a quick glance into his world was enough.

When Jinwoo first registered as a hunter, you had already braced yourself for this moment. The person you had watched in glimpses through the pages, from, the safety of your domain, and later from the shadows of Seoul, was finally stepping into a life that would soon be fraught with peril. You were determined to help him, even if only in ways that were subtle, hidden beneath the surface of his everyday struggles.

As long as the system did not forbid you, you would help him however you could. And perhaps, every small act was your rebellion.

---

It started with the hospital bills. You remembered the pitiful amount of money Jinwoo would scrape together after risking his life in dungeons, just to keep his mother’s medical care afloat. You couldn’t bear to watch it unfold like it did in the story, not when you had the means to help.

You watched him in the hallway of the hospital one day, standing before the reception desk with his head bowed, his fingers trembling as he pulled out a thin stack of cash.

“I-I’m sorry, Miss. This is all the money I can scrape by…” His voice was low, filled with both hope and shame.

The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, was holding back a sigh when suddenly, her computer pinged with a notification. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Good news, Hunter Sung!” she exclaimed, her tone brightening. “With this amount, plus some unexpected anonymous donations, yours and your mother’s hospital bills are covered for the time being.”

“What?” Jinwoo blinked, visibly stunned. “But I didn’t—”

“Oh! And I’m glad to inform you that your mother’s complexion has improved slightly in the last few weeks.” She smiled warmly. “The specialists believe it’s a good sign.”

Jinwoo’s mouth opened and closed, clearly bewildered. “Huh? No, wait, that’s… that’s great, but—”

In your hidden corner outside the hospital, you giggled softly to yourself, covering your mouth with a hand as you watched through your butterfly’s eyes. The tiny creature perched delicately on the windowsill, relaying every flicker of emotion on Jinwoo’s face back to you.

Perched on your shoulder was another small butterfly, its tiny wings beating quietly, the faint residual glow of it, the one you’d tasked with easing his mother’s pain whenever it could, flickered beside your ear.

“I hope you can feel a bit more at ease, Jinwoo,” you whispered to yourself. “It’s not much, but it’s something.”

---

Later that week, you left another package at his door. It had become a small ritual of sorts—every now and then, you’d make a meal for him and his sister. The recipes were simple, but you took care with each one, carefully wrapping each dish to keep it warm.

“Brother, did you order takeout again?” Jinah’s voice carried through the door as she opened it, her face lighting up at the sight of the package. “Huh? No, I didn’t.”

“Whoa! This smells more delicious than the last one.” Jinah’s eyes sparkled as she inspected the food, excitement clear in her voice.

You smiled, pleased. This time, you’d made a little extra, something from your own world—a dish that you remembered from home, a comfort food you’d grown up with. For some reason, it felt right to share it with them, hoping it would bring a small sense of peace to Jinwoo’s chaotic life.

Jinwoo stepped closer, frowning slightly as he eyed the package. “Jinah, don’t open it! What if this is someone else’s—”

“Hmm? Jinwoo! Look at this!” Jinah held up the small card you’d tucked inside, her grin widening as she noticed the handwriting: For strength and courage. Keep going.

Jinwoo blinked, his eyes lingering on the card, and you felt your heart tighten. You’d also left something else this time—a pair of twin daggers, crafted with care, designed to suit his grip and his unique fighting style. You’d poured a bit of your magic into the blades, imbuing them with a subtle strength you hoped would last him longer in dungeons.

Carefully crafted, the daggers gleamed in the dim light, their handles a smooth black etched with faint traces of silver. It was subtle, but you’d placed a small sigil of protection on each blade—a silent promise to keep him safe, even from afar.

Jinah’s gaze darted between the food and the daggers, her expression one of confusion and awe. “Who keeps sending this stuff, Jinwoo? Are they some kind of guardian angel?”

Jinwoo shook his head, still staring at the daggers. “I… don’t know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at the card again, as if trying to piece together a puzzle that had no answer.

From where you watched, you pressed your fingers to your lips, hoping they’d never figure it out. The anonymity felt like a shield, keeping you from the vulnerability of facing him directly. It allowed you to be there for him without the risk of him ever seeing the scars that haunted you—the scars of the battles you hadn’t been able to fight for him.

---

But there were moments when you could not simply leave gifts behind. Moments where the stakes were far too high, and you found yourself breaking the rules you had set for yourself. One of those times was during a particularly dangerous raid where Jinwoo had been injured, caught off-guard by a sudden ambush.

You found him bleeding out in an abandoned corner of the dungeon, unconscious and pale, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Panic surged through you as you cloaked the area with your butterflies’ illusion magic, hiding you both from the other hunters scrambling to escape.

“Hey… Jinwoo…” Your voice trembled as you knelt beside him, your hands hovering uncertainly over his torn shirt, slick with blood. You could barely see through the tears blurring your vision. “Stay with me.”

You pressed your hands to his wound, feeling the warmth of his blood soak into your fingers. Healing him was a delicate balance; you had to hold back most of your power, keeping it just within the boundaries that the system would tolerate The warmth of your power seeped into his skin, mending the torn muscle and stitching the wounds closed.

“You’re going to be okay…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

He grimaced slightly, even in his unconscious state, as though still fighting an invisible battle. His brows were furrowed, and you could see the remnants of pain etched into his expression.

Unable to stop yourself, you began to hum softly—a lullaby from your original world, a song you’d heard countless times. The sound filled the silence around you, mingling with the gentle flutter of your butterflies as they circled, their wings casting soft shadows over the two of you. You weren’t even sure if he could hear it, but you hoped it would bring some comfort. His pained expression gradually softened, his breathing steadying, his body growing still as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

“You will be okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the fluttering wings of your butterflies. Leaning forward, you pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to his forehead, ignoring the taste of sweat and blood on your lips. “I promise.”

You stayed there for as long as you dared, your butterflies encircling you both in a protective sphere. But eventually, the system's warnings began to flash, and you were forced to retreat. The moment you pulled back, you could feel the invisible barrier forcing you away, like a cruel reminder of your place. You were not meant to interfere directly, not in the way you so desperately wished.

As you vanished into the shadows, Jinwoo stirred, his eyelids fluttering open sleepily. A faint scent of flowers lingering in the air.

The soft glow of a single butterfly disappearing into the darkness.

---

You knew it was only a matter of time before Jinwoo’s sharp instincts would catch on. He had always been sharp, even before his strength grew. He had a way of noticing things, piecing together the small details others missed. Sometimes you wondered if he already suspected there was someone watching over him—a nameless guardian who left behind no trace.

For his sake, you hoped he wouldn’t. There was too much you couldn’t tell him, too many secrets that weighed heavy on your heart. You couldn’t let him find you. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. The scars left behind from your previous failures were still too fresh, too deep. You couldn't face him—not with the knowledge of everything you failed to prevent.

A red butterfly fluttered back to your shoulder, nestling close as if sensing your inner turmoil. You reached up, brushing a gentle finger over its wings, a silent promise.

For now, it was enough to watch him from afar, to slip into his life like a fleeting shadow, offering what little comfort and aid you could. For Sung Jinwoo, the lonely hero you once admired on the pages of a story, being beside him—even unseen, even in secret—was more than enough.

Because loving him like this, in silence and secrecy, was the only way you knew how.

-----

The dungeon gate loomed ominously in front of you, shrouded in an aura of terror. Every hunter that passed by gave it a wary glance, a sense of unease clinging to their skin. But for you, standing alone on the empty, desolate street outside the gate, it was more than just unease.

You knew what was happening on the other side of that barrier.

You knew exactly why Sung Jinwoo had gone in there, why he was fighting against forces he had no chance against, and, worse, you knew how the story was supposed to go.

Even if you wanted to save him, you couldn’t.

As you paced in the shadows, a biting frustration gnawed at you, tugging on your every nerve. The system had raised another invisible barrier around the gate, one specifically designed to keep you out. This was a repeat, you knew, yet you had tried pushing against it just like the first time, pounding your fists in desperation, hoping that it would somehow let you through if only you pleaded enough.

But like every single time, the system never relented. The message that flashed in front of your eyes had been clear, cold, and unyielding:

[Warning: You cannot interfere with the designated player’s progression.]

So all you could do was wait. Hours passed, the world seeming to stretch unbearably as you lingered on the edge, senses on high alert. Finally, when the gate shimmered and disappeared, you bolted forward, cloaking yourself with an illusory skill the moment you felt the barrier lift.

Without hesitation, you sprinted into the dungeon.

The first sight of the bloodstained stone walls, the broken weapons and armor littered across the ground, nearly brought bile to your throat. And at the center of it all, lying on the cold stone altar, was Jinwoo, blood pooling beneath him. His once gentle features were twisted with pain, his usually alert eyes closed, his breathing almost nonexistent.

Your heart pounded in your chest, raw terror surging through you as you stumbled forward, nearly dropping to your knees beside him. Your hands trembled as you summoned your healing power, a soft glow flickering to life in your palms as you placed them gently over his wounds.

“Jinwoo…” The name slipped from your lips, an agonized whisper.

It took every ounce of willpower not to let your emotions take control. You wanted nothing more than to pour every bit of your strength into him, to erase the pain and blood, to make him whole again. But something held you back—a quiet, persistent instinct that reminded you of your own limitations here. This was a pivotal moment in his story, the beginning of everything that was to come. If you pushed too far, you knew you’d be punished for it in ways you couldn’t predict.

Instead, you focused on his face, gently wiping away the blood from his brow as you healed the worst of his injuries. The faintest hint of warmth returned to his skin, his breathing evening out, and you felt a trickle of relief flow through you.

“You’ll be okay… Just a bit longer,” you murmured, hoping your words would somehow reach him, even in the unconsciousness of his slumber.

---

Hours later, you watched silently from afar as Jinwoo was admitted to the hospital. Nurses and doctors bustled around him, wheeling him through corridors and hooking him up to machines to monitor his vitals. You should have felt some sense of peace, of reassurance, knowing he was in good hands, but instead, a strange emptiness gnawed at you.

As soon as the doctors left his side, you sent one of your butterflies to hover just above him, invisible to any onlookers. Through its eyes, you watched him sleep, his face pale yet calm. If only he could see the world through your eyes, how much you wanted to protect him from every shadow and danger.

For days, you visited Jinwoo in the hospital, bringing supplies when the nurses weren’t looking, leaving small offerings—potions, enchanted items, all hidden from sight. You spent countless hours just sitting nearby, willing his pain away.

But after those days of endless vigil, your system did something you hadn’t expected: it simply… vanished. No messages, no reminders, no missions or updates. It was as if it had been swept away, a silent farewell. But somehow, you couldn’t believe that was all there was to it. The system you knew—the one that felt almost…alive—would have left something, some kind of parting message. But there was nothing.

Yet even as the ache in your heart grew sharper, you took comfort in the fact that your powers, and the tiny butterfly summons, your children, remained at your side. The system’s absence didn’t change the duty you felt in your heart.

---

Of course, the only thing the system left behind was the now near-permanent barrier.

You felt your own helplessness all over again when Jinwoo entered the penalty zone, struggling to survive against waves of merciless monsters. All you could do was watch, silently cheering him on as he fought his way through it, determination blazing in his eyes. You knew this was the beginning, the spark that would ignite his growth. But still, it was agonizing to stand by, unable to intervene, unable to help.

Days later, when he took on his first solo hunt in an instant dungeon, you lingered nearby. Observing every movement, every struggle, every victory. You smiled with pride as each time he struck down a monster.

And then there came the time he met Yoo Jinho. The memory of that dungeon still sent a chill down your spine. Jinwoo and Jinho, left for dead by Hwang Dongsok and his squad, and then watching the two of them nearly get slaughtered had you gripping the edges of your seat. You could feel admiration as much as your heart shatter as Jinwoo stood over the bodies, his gaze cold and unyielding. The spark of his innocence was dimming, replaced by a hardened resolve.

“Jinwoo…” You whispered his name as you watched him, clutching your chest as a wave of sadness washed over you. He was changing, evolving, becoming stronger, but at what cost? Each time Jinwoo took a life or fought in the dungeons, you felt your heart ache for him. He was growing stronger, yes, but he was also losing pieces of himself along the way.

You mourned for the innocence he left behind. Yet, you knew this was necessary. You reminded yourself of this, over and over.

---

Every time he stepped into danger, every time he took a blow, you felt the echo of his pain in your own chest. You watched him fight Kerberos, your hands clenched into fists as he took hit after hit, barely surviving. And yet, through it all, he pushed forward, as relentless as ever, Each injury he sustained sent you pacing around the Gardens, your butterflies fluttering around you, trying in vain to calm your worry.

Even when Jinwoo joined Jinho to clear various C-rank gates, you remained his unseen guardian, watching from afar with a bittersweet smile. He was getting stronger. He was closer to becoming the hero you admired—no, loved—from the pages of your old world.

---

And then, the job change quest arrived.

You watched with anticipation as he ventured into the ancient halls, his eyes sharp, his movements cautious. The moment he met Igris, you had been waiting for this moment for what felt like lifetimes. You watched him take on Igris with every ounce of power he possessed, watching with bated breath as Jinwoo faced the trials set before him.

And finally, the words you had been waiting for echoed through the temple, sending shivers down your spine.

“Arise.”

The power resonated in his voice, a command filled with strength and authority. You nearly squealed, couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across your face as you watched the first shadow rise at his command.

Watching him gain his Shadow Extraction skill felt like watching a dream come to life. This was the moment you had waited for, the turning point that would set Jinwoo on the path to becoming the Shadow Monarch. He had come so far, and you had seen every step of his journey unfold before your eyes.

As you gazed at him from afar, smile still tugging at your lips. This, you thought, is enough.

Being able to watch him grow, to see him become the hero you admired, was enough. Just knowing that he was okay—that he was stronger than ever—was all you needed.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [010/10/2024] - Goodbye

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

Yet again, a microfic prompt that is no longer "micro" | jegulus | prompt: interruption | word count: 2,090

For whatever reason, the world is against him.

Normally, he’s had no issue coming across Regulus on his own. They would even have ample time to speak without unwanted company interrupting. Well, James would do most of the talking while Regulus pretended to ignore him. It started one morning when James took a detour to the owlery between classes, and stumbled upon Regulus. Forgetting about his previous task, he started following Regulus instead. After the third time, James had accepted this wasn’t a mere coincidence, and started seeking out Regulus on purpose.

He would take Regulus’ books, freeing up his hands to draft in his personal journal, and they would talk as they walked to their next classes. James knew Regulus hardly needed an escort, but there was something about the other boy that drew him in, like a moth to a flame. It had taken him a surprisingly long time to understand what it was, and an even longer time to accept it. But once had, he had made it his life’s mission to find out if Regulus might feel the same.

He has a suspicion that he does.

Last week, he waited around the corner from his charms class to wait for James rather than heading down to the dungeons alone. James, who was caught up visiting Remus in the infirmary, hadn’t thought Regulus would be there. But he was, and though he grumbled the entire way, he had waited for James, and that has to mean something, right?

James thinks it does. It’s all the little things that keep piling up. Regulus waiting for him. Regulus accepting his help carrying his books. Regulus no longer icing him out. Regulus listening to his rants rather than simply nodding along. Regulus starting to rant about his own thoughts and troubles. Regulus smiling at him. Regulus smiling at him! Sirius mentioned he has a hard time opening up to people, and he has seen proof of that. Regulus isn’t like this with his friends, at least not publicly. Sure, he listens and occasionally throws in a comment, but he doesn’t smile from cheek to cheek, he certainly doesn’t laugh, he doesn’t talk animatedly. No, he only does that with James. And it has to mean something.

But, since coming to the conclusion that it does mean something, and he’s going to do something about it, their routine is suddenly interrupted.

First, Pandora is walking with Regulus after his charms class. She looks dreadfully stressed—even though it sounds like she is talking about a dream?—so James gives them space. Next, James is in too much of a hurry and sinks down to his knee in the false step. Since he snuck away from his friends, nobody is there to help him until well after their next class has already begun. Then, Barty and Evan have urgent need of Regulus, towing him away before James can even raise a hand in greeting.

The interruptions have gotten so bad, James has broken his pact with himself, and pulled out the map. He promised he wouldn’t make a breach of Regulus’ privacy, but he is going to lose it if he gets stopped one more time. He hasn’t seen Regulus in nearly two week, and he thinks the withdraw is slowly killing him.

So today, he is certain he is in the clear. His friends are chatting together, none the wiser as he starts to slip away down the opposite corridor. He saw on the map that Barty and Evan have detention with Filch and Pandora is in the hospital wing. The only one of Regulus’ friends he can’t locate is Dorcas, but thus far she has not bothered them, so he doesn’t stress himself over her missing name.

Then, Sirius stops him with a hand encircled around his arm.

“Where do you run off to everyday?”

“Huh?”

“You always run off after class. All of us have the next period off, but you always disappear.”

“Uh…” He didn’t think any of them had noticed. Which is stupid to assume, they spend nearly every minute of the day together, and he disappears for thirty minutes everyday after Transfiguration.

“You’re keeping a secret from me?”

“No, I just… there is somebody I want to ask on a date, but I keep getting interrupted.” He hopes the emphasis alone is enough for Sirius to get the hint, but alas, he is already locked on to an earlier part of the sentence.

“You do! Oh! Tell me, what girl has finally got your eyes off Red?”

“Sirius…” He dances from foot to foot, but Sirius isn’t letting go of his wrist. He casts a furuative glance over his shoulder, but Remus and Peter are gone. Remus is the only one who has been successful in distracting Sirius once his mind has locked onto something, and he isn’t here to help. “Please, he’ll be waiting for—” He freezes, mind whirling. He’s been so careful, he hasn’t let anything slip to Sirius, too afraid such a discovery would lead to the end of their friendship. Sirius disagrees with his parents on many fronts, but this… James doesn’t think this is one of them.

“A boy?”

“Yes?” He braces for impact. Not a physical one, but the emotional one. The tearing of their fabric of friendship. He can feel the strain of it right now, though once torn they can never be put back together the same again.

“That’s why you’ve been so secretive! Alright, fess up, who’s the lucky boy?”

“I—you’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, Remus is gay and I don’t have a problem with him?”

“Remus is gay?” He wracks his brain, trying to remember Remus telling them, but he comes up blank. If he knew, then maybe… no, if he told Remus he was crushing on Sirius’ little brother, he would have told Sirius. And Sirius finds out before he was ready… that would be catastrophic.

“Duh?”

“He never said.”

“Mate, its obvious. Not sure how I missed that you were… wait, stop distracting me, who is it?”

“It’s not going to be anybody if you don’t let me go ask them.”

“But—”

“Sirius, I love you mate, but I really like him. I think… I think he might be the one.”

“You said that about Red.”

“I’m serious this time. But if I don’t get to figure out because you stood in my way, I will never forgive you.”

“…Fine. But if he agrees to this date, you have to tell me who it is.”

“If the date goes smoothly, I’ll tell you, okay?”

“Deal.”

As soon as Sirius’ fingers loosen, he takes off down the hall. This is it. This is the moment. Sure, Regulus could say no, but James has a gut feeling that he won’t. And James’ gut feelings have never lead him astray before. There won’t be any more interruptions and their won’t be any rejections.

He rounds the corner to find Regulus leaning against the wall. His journal is in hand, quill poised over the page, but he is staring at the opposite wall, a deep scowl set into his face.

“Hello, love. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“I wasn’t waiting for you.” But even as he says that, the scowl vanishes, the corner of his lip quirking up even as he fights to keep it down. His shoulders loosen, and his chin rises. He is stunning, like a forbidden flower blooming. James can’t keep his eyes from roaming. Regulus' freckles are more prominent today—he must have spent his free period out at his spot by the lake. His hair is perfectly tousled as always, though one stray hair falls over his eyes. James has to physically hold himself back from tucking it behind his hear. His always searching grey eyes also taking James in.

“Of course not, love.” He scoops up the stack of books from the ledge where Regulus set them, and starts leading the way to the dungeons. “So, I was thinking—”

“Did it hurt?”

There is something deeply wrong with James. Because he laughs. The kind of laugh that comes from deep inside. Bubbling up in your gut and impossible to hold back. His stomach aches with the force of it, and his cheeks cramp from the broad smile. But he wouldn’t have anything else in the world.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“You are hilarious, love.”

“I’m really not.”

“You are. You are so lovely, that when I’m around you, I can’t think straight. There’s something about you, Regulus. And I think, you feel the same way.” Here it goes. Leaping off the cliff into the fog, not knowing if there is solid ground within. “Did you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Regulus freezes in place.

“You can totally say no. I mean, I might be totally misreading things, but I thought you felt the same and—”

“As a date?” Regulus cuts in, voice in complete disbelief.

“Of course, what else would it be?”

“You wan to go on a date, with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Another thing, Regulus makes him unreasonably nervous. Like he has to impress him at all times lest he lose interest and look away. He doesn’t want Regulus to look anywhere but at him. So, so long as he has Regulus’ attention—negative or not—he still has him. He still has a chance. But the result is him stumbling over sentences, doing his best to keep Regulus within grasp.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you like that. I’m sorry, just pretend it never happened. Okay? I’m so—”

“It’s REGULUS?!”

Now, it’s James turn to freeze. His joints lock up and his blood runs cold. No, it wasn’t supposed to go like this. He was supposed to have time to figure out how to tell Sirius. He was supposed to get his answer from Regulus. He was supposed to have control over this. This was supposed to be something for him. After years of giving himself to his friends, he finally wanted to be selfish. Why couldn’t Sirius let him?

“Must you always stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, brother?” Regulus drawls, somehow already composed. James supposes that Regulus wasn’t caught in the middle of anything scandalous, he was just about to reject James after all.

“You! And you! And—how did this happen?”

“Sirius…” He croaks. “Please. I asked you to give me some time.”

“You are supposed to tell me everything! Why didn’t you tell me that you are seducing my little brother!”

“I—what?”

His protests are drowned out by Regulus' “Who said he was the one seducing me?”

His heart is pounding far too frantically to fit within the confines of his chest. It’s going to fast; everything is moving too fast and he can’t keep up. “I—you—what?” He sounds like a broken record, skipping over the same fractured sound over and over.

Regulus is smirking, which makes him impossibly more attractive. Like the devil disguised as an angel, luring you down what is possibly a dark road, but one you would gladly take for the pleasure it gives you. Maybe not the expected route, maybe not the most morally obligated route, but certainly the most enticing one. And James is ready to ‘take the road less traveled by’, or something like that.

“Ew! You don’t have to be lovely and gross in front of me!”

“You followed me!”

“Because you were lying to me!”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Sirius. I was going to tell you, but only after I knew this was going to work out.”

“Of course it’s going to work out. Regulus hasn’t hexed you to the ceiling with your tongue tied in a knot.”

“Has he actually done that?” The question is aimed at Sirius, but he turns to Regulus for an answer. Regulus is leaning against the wall, watching the scene playing out before him, his devilish grin now more amused than dangerous.

“Come on, or Moony is going to think we’re snogging in a broom closet.”

“But I need to—” But Sirius has already snagged him by the arm and is dragging him away from Regulus. He doesn’t do anything other than watch with that stupidly beautiful smirk on his face.

In the end, he was only partially right. He wasn’t interrupted in asking Regulus out, but he was interrupted before he got to hear the answer.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Drafting the Adventure: To the dungeon!

Recently I worked out a framework for running exploration based adventures , and while a lot of people seemed to like it, a few folks wrote in asking how it might work in practice. I’m only too happy to provide an example, as it will likewise give me the chance to demonstrate how to combine a wilderness adventure with a dungeon adventure, which is something I wanted to do anyway. 

Background: the party is sent off to seek an arcane mcguffin contained in an ancient ruin, with the caveat that no one really remembers where the ruin might be. As such they’ll have to explore a stretch of wilderness looking for signs of old habitation before getting to delve the dungeon itself.

Setup: In addition to gearing up The party might want to talk with some locals to get information about where they're going, which will allow you to drop clues about further places they cam explore. Any Entry marked with a (G) can be hinted at in gossip and research, providing them a hint about where to go.

FIRST ZONE : The Ancient Plains

"Cool winds steal the warmth from your cheeks as your party steps into the wilderness, your goal and the mountains far in the distance and a vast rolling grassland before you. This place was the site of a great battle that nearly destroyed your home, but is now quiet save for the murmur of the tallgrass and your own footfalls.

Design Note: The party can either choose to head to one of the locations they've already heard about/discovered, or spend time trying to find a new location with a perception or survival check, with you rolling a die to decide which one to point them at first. Once the random encounter is unlocked, add one die to the pool every time they travel to an area, and two die if their searching for a new area falls below a reasonable dc.

SECOND ZONE: The Forgotten Foothills

"Like the fingers of a grasping titan, the roots of the mountain-range pull at the earth giving rise to steep ascents and sudden valleys. The trickle of pure glacial melt runs in small streams over this uneven landscape, giving you a refreshing if bonechilling respite from your long travels."

Design Note: Now rather than making simple progress, the party needs to actively hunt for the location of the ruins, with the understanding that taking a surface look at different locations is going to bring a random encounter or two down on their heads REAL fast.

Also shoutout to Yithini, my homebrew goddess of ascension in all its forms.

THIRD ZONE: The Cascading Ruins

"It was no wonder it was so hard to find this old fortress, as the waters pouring down from the cliffs above seem intent on wiping it from the mountainside. The noise and the crush of endless water rumbles in your bones as you make your approach, up a slick half eroded stair that might've been part of the structure's battlements. Most of the structure is lost in the pool of rushing white water below, but a few stretches of old fortification still manage to withstand the siege of time. "

Art

[muffinsin]

I like that hurt/comfort 👀 anon, but how about there being hurt with no comfort; the sisters s/o ends up dying in that Lycan attack, what would the sisters do/feel?

-rambunctious Anon

Very interesting ask!👀 (also I believe I’ve got another request of yours- a bit older by now- regarding dom Cassandra breeding somewhere in my drafts XD).

(Comfort/ alive s/o vers. HERE)

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Let’s get into it! ;)

Bela

When she rushes towards the main hall and finds your body limp on the floor, her golden eyes widen immediately

It takes her no time to clear the area of the lycans, and immediately she swarms to you

Holding your limp body in her arms, she checks for a heartbeat, a pulse, yet finds none

She can’t believe it

She feels nothing at all. She can’t cope with it. She won’t even look at you. She can’t.

Golden eyes turn almost hazy when she drops you to the floor and keeps hunting

When her sisters dare approach her about this once the castle is cleared, having found your body, she ignores them

She can’t cope with it. She won’t

She’s stuck in an antagonizing feeling of numbness

She should’ve been there. Should’ve been faster. Should’ve saved you

She knows well what happened, but can’t allow herself to think about it or feel it just yet

This goes on for days, until her bubble bursts. She misses you. She can’t pretend it didn’t happen anymore, either, like you didn’t exist. No matter how hard she tries

She finds your grave, a custom one just for you, at night

Bela cries. She can’t stop now that she feels it

She cries and cries, feels anger and pain, sadness and hurt

When morning comes, she is still sobbing on her knees

She regrets not holding you close. She regrets not being there when you’re buried. She regrets not being good enough to save you

She won’t ever forgive herself for this

Foolishly, she believes she can fix this

The cadou has helped her, and so it will help you!

She’s eager, digging through dirt with bare hands and resisting the urge to gag as she pulls you from your grave

Cassandra is made to infect you along with the usual maidens. She does this, for her sister

Unsurprisingly, it has no effect. The cadou cannot revive, Bela should know this

She demands Cassandra to retry

She demands Mother to give her an explanation

At last, all she can do is cry yet again

She feels alone, lost, helpless without you. A part of her wishes she had never fallen in love with you. She misses you so much

Despite not reaching out for help, the only time she feels stable is when her mother is with her. She becomes exceptionally clingy,

Bela also overworks herself. She tries to keep busy, yet at night she cries herself into exhaustion

At last, she is moved into her mother’s chambers. She can only rest with protective arms wrapped around her, assuring her it was not her fault

Bela also adapts something of a quite severe separation anxiety towards her family members

What if she loses them too?

She feels sick without any of them near

Daniela enjoys the company as she reads, even strokes Bela’s hair upon noticing her distress whenever she comes to find her. The blonde always takes a few minutes to assure herself Daniela is alright, checking her youngest sister for wounds and such. Daniela lets her

Cassandra teaches Bela how she rules things in the dungeon. She shows to be more mature, as if pushed into the role of the responsible one for the time being

Bela is thankful for this, silently. She couldn’t take handling her sisters on top of everything

Cassandra doesn’t mind the constant check ups, although at times throws her sister out of her room when she just wants time to herself and Bela keeps checking on her

Although she is unhappy about being checked for injuries over and over again as if she couldn’t take care of herself, she allows her older sister to do so. She knows it brings Bela comfort

Alcina takes to working with Bela dozed off in a corner of her room, or rested against her thigh. She occasionally pats her hair and praises her for retrieving papers for her. Bela won’t admit it out loud, although it’s not needed: her mother knows in this time her eldest craves company and safety

Still, she likes to push herself. She trains harder than ever. She prays you see her. She wants to show you she is strong. That you can come back to her and she will not fail to save you again

Cassandra

Cassandra is rendered speechless when she hears you’ve passed

She thought she did everything right

She saved you. She tended to your wounds as best as she could to stop the bleeding

All you needed to do was hang on a little longer

She was going to save you. It was going to be okay!!

By the time she finally makes it to medical equipment, she can’t find a pulse any longer

She presses her head to your unmoving chest, eyes wide and desperate

She doesn’t say a word when she can’t find one

She can’t move for several minutes

She has no idea how to cope with this- you’re gone? It can’t be!

Sadness doesn’t hit her at first- anger does. An emotion she is well accustomed to

She screams, loud and raw everybody in the castle hears it and shakes from it

She screams, and angry tears stream down her bloody cheeks. She feels them at the corner of her lips, tastes their salty taste in her mouth

Nails dig into your lifeless body as she screams at you to wake up. She’s desperate to hear your voice

You won’t awaken, and you won’t talk

The room is trashed soon enough, furniture cut and thrown, sheets and curtains sliced. Garments and fabrics on the floor, vases broken

Any maiden unlucky enough to enter is sliced to bits, even her sisters are not safe from the middle daughters rage

Bela gets away with a cut across her right eyebrow, Daniela with a sliced open left arm when they attempt to calm their sister down

However, there is no calming Cassandra. She is loose now and cannot catch herself

She’s always been in the eye of the hurricane as long as she’s had you. Your absence has her feel the bitingly cold air swirling around her, lifting and dragging her away

After hours and hours, anger subsides. Sadness fills her. Dread

She cries against your chest. She begs you to awaken. You don’t shift

Depression and regret hits her hard

She should have been faster. Why hasn’t she found you faster?!

Why was she not strong enough to save you?! What did it help her to be the fiercest huntress if she could not slay the intruding lycans before they sunk their filthy claws in you?!

Cassandra, in her anger and frustration, doesn’t realise how hard she digs her own nails in her arm. Blood spills and wets the dark sleeve of her dress

It’s grounding, the pain, and soon she finds herself desperately clawing at herself to calm down, creating wounds all over that sting with every move

She considers opening a window just to feel and focus on something but the pain and your scent

Finding her in this state prompts her mother to attempt to drag her from you

Cassandra refuses; fights to stay at your side. Alcina does not fault her when she feels sharp claws dug into her side. Instead, the mother of three sets her down and tends to her self-inflicted wounds silently

Cassandra will not abandon you again. Had she only been with you when the lycans attacked…

This goes on for many days. She will not leave your side, even to feast or hunt. Her frame grows thinner, her body weaker. Her dress no longer clings to her, but hangs loosely at her shoulders

She doesn’t sleep, and merely eats when her sisters and mother bring her a meal. The blood makes her feel sick. All she can smell is yours. She is familiar with the taste of her vomit when she drinks blood and she can’t help but imagine it’s yours

At last after days and when your body turns black and smells, she departs from your side, coming to her senses

She allows a tombstone, but doesnt have the strength to stay at your funeral

Instead, she watches from her window, dressed in your favorite clothing, holding the pillow your head should have rested on each night

She opts for spending a lot of nights in her sisters’s rooms. She can’t deal with the memory of you, not yet

Daniela

She couldn’t save you?

Daniela blinks. What silly words spurred from her mother’s lips?

She crosses to your lifeless body. Attempts to shake you awake. It’s futile

Daniela twitches for a moment. She’s completely silent as she studies you

You’re dead. No. Yes. No.

She can’t deal with this. She won’t. She can’t

She handles it the only way she can, delusions convincing her it was all okay. She would break, if it wasn’t for them

“Wake up, sleepyhead!”

She giggles as she shakes you, grabbing you and dragging you from the bed you rest on

She doesn’t mind how sleepy you are, she will be sure to cuddle you a lot!

Alcina forbids her other daughters from saying a thing, at first

This grows increasingly more difficult when Daniela’s delusions grow. She takes you with her wherever she goes. Breakfast, the library, lunch, baths, on hunts.

She is inseparable from you even as you begin to rot. Daniela doesn’t mind. She still loves you

Her family grows concerned for her

You sleep in her bed every day, her head rested on your unmoving chest. She always drags your heavy arm around her. You’re just cuddling her, as you always have!

She reads to you, and laughs with you. Laughs at the jokes you “tell”

When Bela attempts to gently push her, she nearly flips

You’re alive! The lycans didn’t get you!, she insists crying

Daniela changes you and scolds you sometimes as your body begins to reek. She still is close to you. She won’t let anybody take you from her

For a while, her delusions keep her from breaking. Days pass, weeks. A month

Daniela’s scream is heard throughout the castle. Two pairs of arms wrap around her as she hyperventilates, golden eyes watering at your decomposing skin

She shakes and cries for hours. Why can’t she help you?!

At this, she can’t help herself no matter how hard she attempts to keep the delusion up

Memories of you and your death flood her mind. Daniela cries and screams, her throat sore and cheeks completely soaked in her own, sweaty tears as she is held tightly by her sisters. They had dreaded the day their precious younger sister woke up from her dream

It takes another week for Daniela to come to terms with what happened, to accept the realness of it

Within this week, it’s up to her family to keep her alive. She can’t eat or drink, bathe or even sleep lest she passes out from her own exhaustion

When she does sleep, night terrors plague her mind. Your body, mangled, broken. You have been taken from her

The smell of your rotting corpse makes her sick

She is never alone, always surrounded by a sister or her mother. Daniela has taken to being extremely clingy with her after a short time of blaming her for not saving you in time

When a funeral is held, Daniela can’t speak. She cries, and must be dragged inside as the temperature drops. She refuses to move from her window

Her sisters surround her at all times